Catalyst
by More Than I Appear
Summary: AU '07 movie. It was burning his hands but he held on to the Cube with everything he had, forcing it up, up, up toward Megatron's chest, but then Optimus intervened, grabbing hold of the Cube before it could connect while Megatron... Megatron grabbed Sam.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **All recognizable characters of the Transformers franchise as well as the franchise itself are licensed and owned by Hasbro. I do this for entertainment purposes only and do not profit AT ALL- monetarily or otherwise- from the writting of these stories.

**A/N:** Okay, so I got bit by the absolute worst bunny and it refuses to let go- like, at all. Damn thing has wound itself so tightly around my ankle that I can't even but my shoes on. If you read this and my other TF story 'Serendipity' you'll see exactly what I mean. I apologize in advance.

Title may change if I can think of a better one… ::eye roll::

Okay, so this story is set right on the heels of the first movie and we will, unless absolutely necessary, be staying with the Decepticons because they don't get enough character exploration or love. Speaking of someone who doesn't get enough love, I would like to credit how Barricade turned out to the author 'Antepathy' whose stories and LJ I read religiously. If you, dear reader, decide that perhaps you enjoy this different take on our favorite Decepticon scout, then I hope you go check Antepathy's stuff out- particularly 'Sky and Ground' (M) or 'Black Friday' (K).

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Catalyst Chapter One

* * *

Samuel James Witwiky shoved the All Spark he held upward, aiming desperately for the gap in Megatron's armor that shone with blue light. He heard Optimus shout something, some negation, but Sam could only stare upward at his target even as Megatron, red optics boring down, reached toward him with wickedly sharp fingers. The Cube began to glow, the glyphs shining with definition, and a whisper of warning thrilled through Sam but, before he could fully examine the twisting, squirming sensation in his ribcage, a clawed hand closed around his body just as large blunt fingers grabbed the metal between his hands. Then, as if some cosmic circuit had been completed, the world vanished as the All Spark lit up like a star so bright he could see it even behind his closed eyelids as all that energy, all that awesome power, shed its physical form in an explosive, concussive wave…

And there was Sam- right at Ground Zero.

His last conscious thoughts consisted primarily of fire, agony and mind-numbing terror.

* * *

Nothing moved in Mission City, Nevada for the two hours immediately following the destruction of the All Spark. The resulting wave of released energy had knocked out everything electrical, leaving machinery of every kind dormant and silent while the entire city's human population lay unconscious wherever they had fallen when the wave hit. There were no exceptions to this, not even the members of a highly advanced species, and both Decepticons and Autobots alike offlined as the energy washed over them. For those two hours, Mission City was a ghost town, almost devoid of life, but then, finally, something flickered into awareness.

_**Initiating re-boot sequence… **_

_**Sensory Status: Optics offline… Audio offline… Neural net online… Stabilizing servos: Locked**_

_**CPU inventory: **_

_**Processor: online**_

_**Central cortex: online **_

_**Primary programming: online **_

_**Status: functionality down to 43%**_

_**Mobility: minimal… **_

_**Current Mission: Retrieval of All-Spark**_

_**Mission Status: Successfu- **_The circuits flared as a wave of cool blue electricity swept through them, rewriting the data, making the previous entry vanish as if it had never existed. _**Failure- All-Spark destroyed during retrieval**_

_**Loading core doc files…**_

_**Primary objective…searching… searching… file found**_

_**Primary objective: Fidelity to the Fallen **_And again, blue electricity intervened, seeping through the programming, sorting through the multiple lines of coding, searching for errors and repairing in its wake.

_**Error- file damaged**_

_**Automatic File Repair active. Data retrieval initiated…Processing… Error- file corrupted beyond retrieval. Quarantined… Internal diagnostics systems running…**_

_**Warning: Unknown entity detected… **_

_**Purging protocol activated:**_

_**Threat quarantined… processing… **_

_**Threat neutralized. **_

_**File successfully purged. **_

_**Running Viral scan… Scan complete. **_

_**System status: cortex breach detected. Firewalls 50 through 200 compromised… **_

_**Preservation sequence activated.**_

_**Secondary Objective: Protect Cybertron and all Cybertronians from external and internal sources of harm**_

_**Sensory status updated: **_

_**Optics: online **_

_**Audio: online **_

_**Proximity sensors: online**_

_**Warning: Enemy detected… Targeting systems online, locked on. **_

_**Target: Autobot Identity confirmed as Optimus Prime.**_

_**Recommended action: Immediate Termination**_

A rush of electricity spilled across and through the coding, demanding attention and canceling out everything else until it was addressed. It trickled further into the miles of delicate circuitry, hunting out a specific target, digging up the previously unused file, hauling it out into the open and inserting it into the start up menu.

_**New protocols and subroutines initiated… **_

_**Incorporating new software into core programming… **_

_**Instillation successful. **_Cool blue energy spilled over thousands of miles of sensor relays, tickling, teasing, prompting the new software into action.

_**Sparkling detected… **_

_**Designation: Sam Witwicky. **_

_**Status: Offline, heavily damaged. **_

_**Nesting program activated.**_

_**New Primary Objective: Escape**_

_**New Prime directive: Protection of Sparkling**_

_**Reboot complete.**_

_**

* * *

**_

Megatron's visual display flickered online as the mech's stabilizing gyros unlocked automatically, allowing him to stand upright, one hand carefully cradling a limp figure to the Decepticon leader's chest. Dente jutting out more prominently as his labial plates turned downward, he looked down at what he held, unimpressed and slightly dismayed by the pathetically tiny size.

Red optics flicked over to scan the Autobot leader prone at the Decepticon's feet before moving over to the cube of metal clutched in Optimus' hand. The urge to reach out and take it, to finally have what he had been searching for all those vorns made his unoccupied hand twitch impatiently until Megatron simply stepped over both the Autobot leader and the cube and began walking out of the strangely silent city, where only the organics moved, the internal fans in their chassis ventilating even in their off-lined state.

Cupping his hand more securely around the sparkling, Megatron paused, holding still as he scanned his surroundings, realization triggering as his processors warmed up to optimal working temperatures.

Where in the Pit was he and why was he fighting to the death with Orion?

And, for the love of Primus, why had Optimus been using a sparkling as a weapon during their battle?

Querying his memory files only caused more alarm since there seemed to be some sort of corruption to the emotional overlay accompanying the information and images. Megatron flipped through his files of Cybertron, starting with the earliest and then moving sequentially forward to the present, a chill settling deeply in his spark at the escalating violence he had encouraged and ultimate destruction of their home world. The accompanying emotions were a constant mix of deep-seated satisfaction, rage, and joy, especially once Cybertron was razed, and the Decepticon leader felt his knee stabilizers slip, making him stumble as horror engulfed his spark.

He cradled the sparkling to his chest and mourned, grief stricken, as the ramifications of his actions bounced around the inside of his cranial plating, cutting into his processors with an inescapable sharp edged clarity.

Megatron, High Lord Protector of Cybertron, had led the side that had destroyed their world and left their race homeless refugees. They had no sanctuary left and with the destruction of the All Spark, it was only a matter of time until they died out, especially if they themselves were killing each other. Where Prime had managed to find a sparkling amidst the chaos- chaos Megatron himself was responsible for- and what had led to the decision to sacrifice its existence in the pursuit of deactivating the Decepticon leader Megatron didn't know but it must have been a the only option left. Prime had to have been desperate to be so… ruthless.

What had happened to the gentle, scientific mind Megatron had constantly fought with?

Megatron stood, suddenly desperate to flee this silent city that now reminded him eerily of the Cybertron he was responsible for creating. Forcing his limbs into movement and mindful of the small organic forms prone on the concrete, he sought out the other Decepticons in the city, putting a hand to each one and calling them into online status from their recharging state. Together with Brawl and Blackout's help, the three found Starscream and pulled him from the building he had crashed into since the jet had been in the air when the weapon went off.

It was abundantly clear from the damage they had all sustained that, had the battle continued, their side would have lost and Megatron felt a surge of anger and disappointment in his subordinates try and overtake his logic centers. The others seemed to sense this and backed away, optics averted as they waited for some display of temper, and this, more than anything, helped him push the urge to strike out away. They were all in a state of disrepair and needed some uninterrupted recharge cycles.

They were soldiers that had been pushed to the breaking point, something only incompetent leaders did.

When he announced that they were leaving, no one fought him, the group following obediently behind him as he led the way into a barren landscape with gently rolling hills. Megatron had Starscream pick a location suitable to serve as a base and, after placing the sparkling in a subspace pocket near Megatron's spark chamber, ordered the others to transform as he himself did so. Sending out a signal to any Decepticons in the area as Brawl was rigged between the three flyers, Megatron led the way to their new home, leaving the city, the Autobots, and the questions behind.

He had troops who needed to be led and a sparkling- possibly the _last _one- that needed to be protected and his crimes of the past did nothing to change the present.

* * *

By the time the Autobots roused to discover the perplexing condition of Mission City, the Decepticons were well and truly gone.

* * *

Listening to his engine tick as it cooled down from the long drive, Barricade decided that, though he didn't really mind this planet, he absolutely hated the desert. It was hot, blisteringly so, and the dust and sand from the flat scrub land kept getting under his armor plating, wearing at his gears and making his self-repair system fritz. Driving out here was a pain in the aft too because his tires couldn't get much traction on the small grains, and Barricade kept slipping and sliding all over the place unless he went at a slow speed.

Rolling forward into movement toward the mountain range that was his destination, the Decepticon grumbled irritably that all his trouble getting here better be worth it when he arrived.

* * *

"That is not a sparkling." The faux police car said, pointing in disgust at the tiny offline creature being presented to him by Starscream.

"It is Lord Megatron's sparkling." The Air Commander said stiffly, patience wearing away. That wasn't too surprisingly given that they had been having the argument for the past five megakliks and the only reason that it had been able to last that long without coming to blows was because Barricade had been allowed a good cleanse after his arrival. Yes, a trip to the wash-racks had made him much more willing to indulge Starscream's little delusion far longer than Barricade would have been otherwise.

"That's a squishy. A fleshling." Barricade said disdainfully, waving a hand dismissively. If Megatron had stolen Prime's little pet human, then best of luck to the egomaniac- he just better not ask the police car to babysit. Actually… All four optics focused on the little fleshbag, really looking at him for the first time though Barricade had recognized Ladiesman217 the moment Starscream tried to shove him under the scout's nasal intake. "Did you piss Megatron off again?"

Starscream's armor rattled threateningly as the mech scowled, affronted. "No! He honors me with the watching of Sam!"

'_The watching of Sam'? _"Uh huh." Barricade had to struggle to hold in the snort that threatened to escape. He managed but only because he distracted himself by accessing the maps of the base Blackout had transmitted to the scout upon arrival. Without a word, Barricade turned around and headed toward what had been zoned as the residential area of the abandoned human military base, deliberately taking a passage too narrow to comfortably accommodate Starscream's larger frame.

"Why do you ask?" The jet, apparently, wasn't about to let his question slide nor let him slip away and he followed the police car, having to stoop when they reached an area with a low ceiling that had, so far, missed Megatron's and Brawl's efforts at remodeling. "Barricade, why do you ask?"

Barricade held up a hand to indicate to the jet that he was about to stop moving so that they could avoid bumping into one another. For some reason, he didn't want the other to touch him- at all- and he worked to keep distance between them as he turned to face Starscream, pointing at the Air Commander's cupped hands. "Because that squishy is about to deactivate."

"What?" Starscream clutched the human protectively to his chassis and reared back as if Barricade had physically attacked it. The resulting clang of the jet's helm connecting with the low ceiling was loud enough to make the police car wince. "He is not! We have been caring for him very well!"

"And I'm sure you'll continue to provide excellent care right up until he deactivates." Barricade reviewed the image file of the human Starscream continued to insist was a sparkling. "Very messily, if what I've read is true. It's customary to bury them on this planet- have you picked a plot yet?"

Barricade began walking again, his short size for once not an impediment in a Decepticon base, and ignored the jet's sputtering behind him as the police car carefully considered the available apartments. Choosing one, he clicked a signal to the door to shut it before realizing that there was no door. What kind of quarters didn't have a slagging door? Or berths! He was going to have to sleep on the floor, slag it! Stupid backwater mud-ball planet-

"Barricade!"

Oh for the love of…! Primus, that jet would never leave him alone now- he should have just stroked 'Screamer's ego, figuratively patted the Seeker's head and moved on.

"Barricade!" And then Starscream was in his doorway, glaring at him as bits of dirt and rock drifted off his armor. "Explain to me your reasoning about the sparkling's imminent demise!"

Seriously? Did the jet honestly need someone to explain that squishies in good health didn't work so hard to exchange gasses efficiently? That their fuel pumps were not supposed to be working that hard to circulate core fluid? That their dermal plating was supposed to be one, relatively consistent pigment and not blotchy red with dark patches? And it stank, more so than humans did normally, but Barricade wasn't sure if the stench was due to bodily secretions or from the dirty tattered clothing clinging to its tiny frame.

"I thought you were a scientist." Barricade grumped, his door fairings fanning gently behind him to allow any trapped solvent to evaporate fully. "It's a squishy not a quantum warp gate! I know you've had pets before and this is the same thing! Feed it, clean up after it, stomp on it when you finally grow bored of its presence, dispose of the body when it dies. Which, as I said before, will be soon."

"Explain to me your logic!" Starscream- honest to Primus- stomped his foot, the armor plates over his weapons shifting, flaring, frequencies ratcheting up to near painful pitches.

Barricade shuttered his optics for a klik, analyzing the jet's behavior. Starscream was rarely anything but arrogant and snobbish in the presence of a grounder- something to do with the worldview that flying was superior to everything else and, since he could fly, thus Starscream was superior to any ground frame. Seeing him falling apart was both funny and a tad disturbing but what really grabbed Barricade's attention was the realization that, for a comment from a lowly grounder to provoke such a reaction, the jet had to have had similar fears about the little fleshbag's continued functioning.

The urge to be petty and tell the pain in the aft jet to get lost almost won out before the scout realized that it would just lead to a fight that Starscream- being bigger, stronger and meaner- would win. Barricade would be reduced to a pile of scrap for indulging in his vengeance for vorns of the Air Commander's verbal abuse, a fate that would not spare him from having to explain his earlier comments anyway. If, however, the scout consented willingly to explain why the little squishy was about to expire on the jet's watch then Starscream would be in his debt.

Having the Air Commander owe you one could prove to be very useful in the future.

Cooling fans cycling noisily, Barricade waved the jet over, looked down at Ladiesman217 where the human lay nearly swallowed by Starscream's massive hand and decided to start simple. "What have you been feeding him?"

Starscream fidgeted then, when the police car snapped at him to stop doing so, took a seat on the floor. Even sitting, Barricade still had to look up a few inches to be able to look the other in the optic. "Energon siphoned from my tank. Blackout and Lord Megatron have been donating also."

Well, that would explain part of the problem- if they had been dealing with an actual sparkling, the highly refined energon from a flier's system would have been perfectly acceptable in small, measured doses. Unfortunately, Ladiesman217 was human, not an actual Cybertronian sparkling, and energon for him was toxic at any dose.

Actually, it was surprising that that the human's insides hadn't melted to slag.

Barricade almost felt sorry for the poisoned little squishy. Almost. He put a hand to his cheek flares and scratched the chrome surface idly as he felt his shoulder plating begin to twitch. Looking at an ugly telltale mark on the little organic's flesh, the scout was afraid of the answer to his next question. "And what did you use to treat his injuries?"

"Most of its injuries are internal and beyond his auto-repair system's capability." Starscream said, looking down at the sparkling. The jet brushed one long talon along the human's back and, even unconscious, Ladiesman217 immediately flinched away from the gentle touch, ventilation coming in harsher pants. "We have attempted to intervene and replace the damaged parts…"

"But…" Barricade prompted when the jet didn't continue. Starscream looked disturbed and the police car covered his facial plating with his hand, hiding his own grimace and taking comfort from the fact that, as far as he could tell, the human was still in one piece.

"His processor does not respond to override codes so we cannot place him in stasis. We have tried waiting until he falls into a deep recharge cycle before beginning but he wakes once we start looking for the dermal latches. He was leaking fluid when we arrived and his internal pressure was dropping but when we began to weld the wound shut he, he started screaming." Starscream stared at Barricade with haunted optics, vocalizer dropping to barely audible levels. "He cursed and fought as if we were torturing him and I think Blackout may have broken some rib struts holding him down while we finished. He has not on-lined since."

And he probably wouldn't at all if they continued to be in charge of his care. "How long ago did you attempt to repair him?"

"Two solars ago." The jet said quietly, mournfully, stroking the little form again. This time Ladiesman217 didn't move away but Barricade could hear the squishy's systems respond negatively to the tactile stimulation. "I had thought his plating would strengthen once the excess liquid was purged from his system. That's normally what pushes the heating system into overdrive in a sparkling since fluid buildup interferes with metal absorption…"

Translation? Commander Brilliant here had let Sam's fever run rampant since it appeared, depleting his body of resources until all that was left was a dehydrated husk.

This situation right here? This was the definition of irony and suddenly Barricade wanted to put his helm in his hands and keen it was so pathetic. He wished he had never run across the jet or the dying human and had instead kept his mandibles shut as he sought out a place to recharge.

"Was this before or after you fed him?" The scout didn't want to know, honestly, and this was reflected in the way the words were voiced, as if dragged kicking and screaming from his vocalizer. He had to know, however, if he was to plan a successful intervention and save both the human and Starscream's aft.

"Before." The Air Commander's voice sounded incredibly small.

"Did he keep any of it down?"

The jet's optics narrowed suspiciously. "How did you know the sparkling purged its tanks?"

_Because that's how organic bodies are designed to respond when a poison is forced down their intakes, _Barricade thought irritably. The Autobots were going to go absolutely ape shit, to borrow a human phrase, when they found out how their little pet had been treated. On the way out here, Barricade had barely managed to escape that moron Bumblebee who had been pretty slagging persistent in catching the Decepticon, so much so that it was only by the skin of his dente and Primus' will that the Decepticon had managed to escape the fight with no more than a few dents and a kick to his skid plate. Bumblebee had displayed a rage that Barricade had never seen in the other scout, before or after a battle, but the little fragger had been so worked up that he could barely aim properly, something Barricade had been quick to take advantage of in making his getaway. He had led the Autobot scout on a merry chase across three states and back again, pouring all his energy into getting the Pit away from the yellow menace.

"Primus!" The police car hissed, realization dawning. What he had seen would be nothing to the level of wrath the Auto-idiots unleashed once they learned that their precious 'Sam' had died under Decepticon care. For whatever reason, the human had become a rallying point for the weakened Autobots, bolstering their decision to protect this planet, and reinforcing their moral outrage over everything the Decepticons were. Prime and his followers had been on the losing side for so long that the fight had begun to leave their sparks until now, until this miserable dirt ball and its disgusting organic inhabitants had rekindled their collective spirits. If one gross little human could tie them all together again in only a few days what would the knowledge of his death do to the Autobots? How far would they be willing to go for revenge?

Squishy insect or not, it was in the Decepticon's (and more importantly Barricade's) best interest that Ladiesman217 survive long enough to be returned to the other faction.

Step one of this plan, the scout decided, was very simple: Get the human away from the other Decepticons. Barricade would have to be calm and tactful in the execution of this crucial part.

"Starscream," The police car began quietly, diplomatically, cycling his frequencies to a longer wavelength, a lower tone, to help calm the agitated Seeker. "You've done very well and all the care you've given has been perfectly acceptable for a sparkling… but that is not a sparkling-"

"He is a sparkling!" Somewhere in the jet a weapon's capacitor charged threateningly, others joining the first before Barricade could even begin to press the issue. Why in the Pit Starscream thought Ladiesman217 was a sparkling, the police car didn't understand but decided it was an argument for another time. Maybe the jet's logic circuits had fried during the battle? Blackout had mentioned that the Seeker had slammed into a building pretty spectacularly…

Barricade made a calming gesture and made a show of blatantly scanning Ladiesman217, mentally backpedaling, processor chugging away furiously as the faux police car fought to redirect the argument. "You're right. I missed it before because my scanners aren't as good as yours. He is a sparkling but he's a very special one, a brand new mimic prototype."

"A pretender drone?" Starscream said, doubt evident, but he uncurled his fingers from their tight grip around Ladiesman217, exposing more of the human to Barricade.

"Exactly." The smaller mech assured, speaking with a patience he didn't feel in the least. It was tempting to simply reach out and snatch the little fleshbag from the larger mech but Barricade resisted the urge. Seekers had both software and hardware that afforded them the fastest reflexes of all frame designs and it was possible that, if the scout tried to grab the human, Starscream would react automatically and close his hands, either squashing or impaling Ladiesman217. No, if Barricade wanted the human alive, he had to sway the jet into willingly surrendering Sam. "It's a pretender and right now it's pretending to be a human so regular sparkling care isn't going to work. It's reacting like an organic because of its mimicry protocols and needs to be treated like an organic in order for it to survive."

"Organics do not like welding torches." Starscream said quietly, clearly distracted as he followed Barricade's logic.

Even though he knew how they had stopped Sam from 'leaking,' it still sent a cold flutter through Barricade's spark to actually hear it. He wondered vaguely if the Autobots would still hold them responsible if Sam was nuts.

"Right, so we should allow someone more knowledgeable repair him." The scout concluded and waited for the jet to make the connection. Ratchet, one of the best medical officers in all of Cybertronian history, would be the best mech to look after a human and, if the inevitable happened, the kid died under Autobot care, not Decepticon.

Starscream's face twisted into an expression of absolute repugnance but, just as Barricade was about to pat himself on the dorsal plating for a job well done, the jet spoke. "There is a human place of healing in the nearest settlement."

"Huh? Wait, what?" Barricade asked and this time he was the one following on the other's heels as the jet stood and strode purposely through the hallways. "Don't take him there!"

"By your own logic, the humans should be able to provide aid without incident. Are you saying your previous logic was wrong?"

Barricade wanted to slam his head into the wall. If he backtracked his position, he'd never hear the end of it but he doubted that a standard human hospital in the middle of the desert was going to have the resources to fix days of Decepticon 'help.' "The humans won't have the equipment! Contact Ratchet and arrange a drop off instead!"

"No!" Starscream shouted, whirling and pointing with a talon at Barricade's nasal ridge threateningly. "The Autobots are responsible for his present condition and I will not allow them to harm him again!"

The Seeker turned and resumed his path to the entrance of the base.

Barricade stared after him, wondering for a long moment if insanity was catching as he watched the jet carefully place the human in his cockpit and transform.

"Pressurize and warm your hatch!" He shouted as Starscream fired up his engines in preparation for flight. There was no form of acknowledgment and Barricade found himself running toward the jet, his touching phobia from earlier being usurped by the need to ensure that Ladiesman217 survived. "Hey!"

This was insanity! Complete and utter madness but he couldn't simply let the jet go, not with the human about to deactivate at any klik. Hurling himself at the jet, Barricade latched on tight enough to avoid being thrown off just as Starscream took off into the sky and pressed himself as flat as he could to get a look into Starscream's cockpit.

Still offline, Ladiesman217 was strapped securely in place in the seat harness giving no sign of the stress that he would have been showing if the Air Commander hadn't followed Barricade's advice.

The relief that flooded the faux police car's systems was nearly overwhelming but it was all wiped away when Starscream executed a barrel roll without warning and, as far as Barricade was concerned, without reason. Fingers digging into the jet's armor hard enough to score the pain, the scout could do nothing but helplessly hold on as the jet screamed into the sky.

* * *

Continue: Y/N?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Now, don't get used to me updating so fast… It's just that… I'm such a sucker for reviews… And the story alerts… And the author alerts…

**Disclaimer:**** All recognizable characters of the Transformers franchise as well as the franchise itself are licensed and owned by Hasbro. I do this for entertainment purposes only and do not profit AT ALL- monetarily or otherwise- from the writing of these stories.**

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Catalyst Chapter Two

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want a seat, Marshal Rampart?" The receptionist asked as Barricade's holographic form practically sagged against the counter she sat behind.

Shaking its head, the hologram straightened, mustache twitching as it busied itself with straightening its new uniform, a plain white shirt interrupted by a plain black tie the same shade as the plain pants, shoes and trench coat. Barricade still felt as if he were about to purge his tanks at any moment but managed to force the urge to do so away and concentrate on the conversation.

"It's just the thought of what that poor kid has gone through getting to me." The hologram said and Barricade let some anger and sadness bleed into the voice pattern. "Beaten the hell out of, poisoned with Primu- er, God knows what then dumped in the desert for days before anyone finds him? It's just despicable and why we appreciate the hospital's willingness to accommodate such…special circumstances."

The receptionist, 'Maggie' according to her name tag, nodded her red head, green eyes scanning the area around them as her voice lowered and her expression became fiercely determined. "Our hospital is always happy to help the WitSec Program in any way we can, Marshall."

Barricade loved this planet. Though he had put considerable thought into creating a cover story that would explain Ladiesman217's condition, there was no way a Cybertronian would have fallen for it, not when a few inquiries over the radio and to surveillance satellites would have torn it apart in seconds. It was so much easier to fool the humans, especially when any information to the contrary was beyond the access of regular people.

"Will your partner be alright? He was very upset and he's been in the bathroom a while…" Maggie asked, sounding very concerned. That wasn't terribly surprising since Starscream had glitched so badly when they'd taken the human that his hologram had nearly vanished right in front of everyone and only Barricade's quick thinking had prevented a disaster.

"He'll be fine." Barricade said dismissively then added, "Once he forgives himself, I mean. Just got his badge and this happens on his first assignment. Was nearly beside himself when the kid went missing."

Maggie made a sympathetic noise and nodded again in understanding before something on her desk distracted her. Flashing an apologetic smile at him, she bent to the task and Barricade took the opportunity to sidle away before she could ask any more questions.

Poke at even the most carefully crafted story enough and it will fall apart under the strain- better to move himself out of arm's reach. The hologram drifted further down the hallway, avoiding the minimal traffic in the corridor as he hunted for the room where Ladiesman217 was being kept.

Out of all the Decepticons, Barricade was the one who had the most experience with humans but even he didn't understand everything that the other humans were doing to treat Megatron's new pet. They used so much jargon as they yelled at one another he almost thought it was a whole separate language. It had become so frustrating, especially so with an impatient Starscream constantly asking "Have they repaired him yet?" in his audio, that Barricade had not only hacked the hospital's network but also several medical sites online just so he had one micron of an idea about Ladiesman217's status.

Thanks to his raiding, Barricade at least knew that they were using some sort of binding agent to neutralize the remaining energon in Ladiesman217's system and that a cocktail of medication had been given to both stabilize his condition and sensor block him into oblivion. The medical staff was waiting for his condition to improve before beginning the more invasive repairs to his limbs.

Even Barricade knew that this… waiting period was not a good sign and he was profoundly worried that, despite the documentation that would back his claim, the Autobots wouldn't believe his explanation that, no, really, the kid had honestly died under human care. He ran an internal diagnostic on his actual body, paying close attention to his tires and making sure that all his drive systems were in perfect working order because, once he transmitted the death notification, Barricade was going to have to run like the Pit to escape Bumblebot's wrath.

He wondered vaguely if Starscream would give him a lift out of the city before hand then dismissed it as his tanks heaved in memory.

As if summoned by the thought, the jet's voice hissed over his comm. channel. ::Has he been repaired yet?::

Resisting the urge to growl was hard but Barricade managed to do it though his voice came out flat as he reported. ::No. They're treating him but resetting his struts will have to wait.::

::But he is damaged,:: Starscream pointed out as if Barricade had somehow missed this particular detail. ::Why would they wait to repair him when he is so injured?::

In a magnanimous gesture of self control, Barricade did not point out that it was due to the jet's stupidity that Ladiesman217 was at termination's door in the first place. _I,_ the scout thought sourly, _deserve a slagging metal!_ Or a monument. A monument would be perfectly acceptable to embody the sacrifices Barricade was having to make and the pain he had to endure while cleaning up this mess. ::It's because he's so injured that they are waiting.::

::This is illogical!:: The jet sounded nothing short of outraged and the scout wasn't sure if it was due to concern for Ladiesman217 or just general frustration born from an inability to understand the hospital staff's delay. ::This is due to your insistence of sticking to that ridiculous explanation! My way was much more efficient!::

Yes, because a giant transforming jet landing in front of the hospital's emergency entrance while dangling an unconscious human in one hand and a chain gun in the other was _such_ a better idea than Barricade's plan of Ladiesman217-as-a-protected-witness.

Barricade was parked in the hospital lot on the other side of the wall from where his hologram form stood within the hospital and if he'd been able to do so, the scout would have smashed his facial plates into the asphalt. How in Primus' name did Megatron put up with the jet's constant bitching? The scout was already getting a processor ache trying to manage the Seeker and they'd only been there one earth hour! For the sake of his continued sanity, the police car decided that the Air Commander needed a different project of some sort to focus on if only for a few megakliks.

::This is going to take a while.:: Barricade stated, listening and watching as the jet did tight, frustrated circles in the airspace above the hospital. ::Why don't you report back to base while I keep watch here?::

::And do what?:: Starscream snarled, his engines screaming through the sky. ::Twiddle my thumbs, as the humans say, and wait for you to report that your idiocy has killed Sam?::

Barricade, after a quick scan to ensure he was indeed alone in his section of the parking lot, surrendered to his previous urge and transformed long enough to bang his head into the ground. Only when several humans around his holoform comment on the resulting crash from outside did he realize that he had been a tad louder than intended.

::Blackout,:: Barricade radioed. ::Need a favor.::

The helicopter wasn't the brightest of mechs but he seemed to sense what the scout's problem was. Yet another victim of Starscream's sparkling personality. ::'Screamer finally drive you crazy?::

::Can you call him back to base?:: Barricade asked tersely, hoping he didn't sound like he was pleading.

A low thrum came over the radio, the audible equivalent of a shrug. ::And have him do what?::

_Stupid, slagging 'copter!_

Inside the hospital, Maggie the receptionist leaned over the divider for her station and waved at his holoform urgently. "Marshal Rampart? I think someone's vandalizing cars in the back parking lot!"

"My partner's checking on it." He told her, turning his head to display the small Blue Tooth earpiece he'd added to his disguise. She nodded with a bright smile and retreated back behind the partition. ::I dunno. Why don't you two go steal an ambulance or something?::

::What's an 'ambulance?'::

_Primus! Must I do everything?_

"It's alright, Maggie, tell security not to bother!" Barricade called just as the alarmed red head appeared again. He felt his facial spikes bend and wondered if the plating was going to survive the night. After reverting back to his alt mode, he began hunting for an image file of an ambulance on the Internet and, upon finding a satisfactory one, sent it to Blackout..::It's a vehicle stocked with medical supplies used to transport injured organics!::

::Oh.:: Was the thoughtful response. ::That could work. How's Sam?::

::Still malfunctioning..:: Barricade sagged on his shocks, gaining several curious looks from the very serious-looking security guards now patrolling the area. ::He's not going anywhere for several solars.::

Worried clicking came over the radio, quick and sharp in the scout's audio. ::But he'll be okay, right? They'll repair him? Flush his systems and replace tubing? Machine new parts?::

Uh, yeah… humans didn't, like, repair that way? Barricade shifted his weight from tire to tire, unsure how to answer such a question without panicking the helicopter. It would be easy to simply agree but lying would only come back to bite him in the aft. After getting an update from the hospital files, Barricade transmitted a file containing what he knew of Ladiesman217's injuries and what treatment was currently being given. ::I honestly have no idea, Blackout.::

But, down to the bottom of his spark, Barricade hoped that the human would be- at least long enough for him to transport.

::The contents of this 'ambulance' will truly help Sam?:: Starscream asked suddenly, breaking into the conversation.

::Yes. Is there a room his size at the base?:: Barricade asked, and even to his audio sensors his voice dragged. Running from Bumblebee had put a serious dent in his reserves but then having to bail Starscream out of trouble with Ladiesman217, and subsequently being forced to use his holoform had run the scout's energy down to practically nothing. ::It was a human base- everything in there was his size before the remodeling began. Did you keep any of the original structure intact?::

::You need to recharge.:: The jet stated, sounding both surprised by and contemptuous of the concept. ::What have you been doing to be functioning so inefficiently?::

::Starscream…:: Blackout warned, baffling Barricade as the helicopter came to his defense. They had never been friends- rule number one of the Decepticon army was that _no one _was your friend- so it was a pleasant yet vaguely disturbing turn of events. He wondered if the friendly behavior was due to the 'sparkling's' influence or something else entirely and, as paranoia reared its ugly head, Barricade wondered if he should be worried about Blackout's sudden shift in attitude.

::It is important for him to be operating at peak efficiency since Sam's welfare rests upon the success of this mission!::

Hear that snap? That snap right there? That's the sound of Barricade's patience breaking under the massive weight of the jet's stupidity.

::You know what, Starscream? Why don't you park yourself somewhere out of sight and take over if you're so convinced that you can do such a better job?:: Barricade snarled, starting his engine and revving it. ::Terrorizing a hospital into doing your bidding won't help get things done any faster- in fact, if you threaten them, they won't be able to function enough to help but, please oh most **Supreme Genius**, do go right ahead because you absolutely _**must**_ have some glorious plan on how to overcome that so they won't kill him through incompetence!::

The scout abruptly shut down the program responsible for maintaining his holoform and flashed his roller lights in warning just before tearing out of the parking lot, tires squealing as he sped down a deserted side road with his siren wailing.

::Barricade you cannot abandon a sparkling!:: The jet reprimanded, outraged, and the police car could hear the other mech following him overhead.

Barricade sped up and barreled onto the main roadway, angling toward the mountain range.

::I will report your negligence to Lord Megatron!:: Starscream howled.

The scout snorted loudly over the radio, slamming on his breaks and skidding to a stop in a wide arc. ::_My_ negligence? _You're_ the one whose supposed to be watching him. _I_ was supposed to be in recharge long ago but couldn't because I had to save your aft::

Starscream roared past him, the heat of his engines washing over Barricade in a scalding rush as the Air Commander snarled,. ::Lowly, incompetent, grounder!::

::Ego deflating because this 'lowly, incompetent grounder' knew more than you did?:: Barricade transformed, his spoke weapon already out and spinning, ready for melee combat as the jet made a turned around for another pass.

::Come on back to base, Barricade.:: Blackout said suddenly, the large helicopter appearing overhead and fouling Starscream's trajectory, forcing the latter to veer suddenly or risk collision. ::Use some of the lubricant in my room to oil your joints and then go get a good recharge. Starscream will go hunt down one of these 'ambulance' things and I'll keep watch on Sam.::

::I am Air Commander here, Blackout!:: Starscream roared, circling the helicopter that stubbornly remained hovering above Barricade, the whine of his weapons' capacitors clear. ::You do not order me around!::

Blackout's voice was harsh but he held steady, the wash of his rotors buffeting the scout's smaller frame. ::Then quit acting like a spoiled sparkling and do your job! I'll help you keep watch so unkink your coolant lines, run a systems check, and lead the way, fragger!::

Well, it was nice to know that the helicopter was as tired of the jet's attitude as the police car was. Barricade's spoke weapon spun down to a stop, the blades withdrawing with a sharp _snick _as the faux police car watched the jet barrel roll away in frustration but angling toward the hospital nonetheless.

::I think they'll notice a military helicopter no matter how hard you hide.:: Barricade snorted, transforming back to his alt mode just as his power cells began inundating him with low power notifications. He wasn't going to make it to the base and, since Barricade had no desire to sleep in the dunes, decided to instead follow road signs to the local airport where he could park in one of the long term structures where he wouldn't be bothered as he recharged.

.::Yeah, but I got that covered.:: Blackout laughed. The sound was neither forced nor malicious, a brief bark of sound that was there and gone in a flash just as the larger Decepticon's paint nanites abruptly rippled into a new pattern. ::They gotta give me access to their heliport now.::

::…You do realize that this is an ocean of **sand,** right, not water?:: In a rare show of brilliance, Blackout had changed the color scheme of his still military alt mode to mimic the paint job normally seen only on rescue helicopters used by… the American Coast Guard. As long as no one noticed the gun turret on the front or the massive engines just beneath the rotors or questioned why in the Pit a slagging _Coast Guard_ helicopter was working the middle of the desert, everything would work out fine.

::Yeah. Head for the east parking structure not the south lot. Should be quieter.::

After a brief debate, Barricade decided to take the other's advice and let the Pave Low continue on its way without further comment, listening to massive rotors bite the air as it herded the angry F-22 toward the hospital. As the helicopter neared, it became obvious that flashing the correct colors wasn't going to be enough since there was no way Blackout was going to be able to land on the significantly smaller helipad without crushing the building below it.

Over his alt mode's radio, Barricade began picking up panicked chatter from the local law enforcement concerning the two air frames. As the scout searched for the perfect recharge spot, common sense and fear for his continued functioning managed to beat back his long-held grudge against Starscream long enough to blurt out a believable explanation for the presence of the pair.

His good deed done for the day, Barricade picked a parking spot behind a support column and powered down for a well deserved rest, dreaming of all the ways he was going to cash-in the favor Starscream owed him. Demanding the other's energon ration wouldn't get him anywhere since they were different frame types but there had to be some perks that Starscream, the Air Commander, enjoyed that Barricade, a lowly infiltration scout, did not. Hmm… a soak in a nice hot oil bath sounded wonderful… lubricate all his joints…Slagging sand…

* * *

::_**You**_ were woefully misinformed.:: Starscream smug voice in his ear was not how Barricade had wanted to wake up and he expressed his displeasure with an inarticulate snarl over the radio. ::And you also owe Blackout an apology. Sam has recovered sufficiently and we are taking him to base.::

_What?_ What in the Pit was the jet talking about? There was no possible way that Ladiesman217 was anywhere near ready to leave the hospital, not with all the injuries he'd accumulated during the Mission City fight and his time spent with a well meaning but woefully inept Starscream for a nursemaid.

::I dunno what happened,:: Barricade growled, revving his engine and heading down the third floor ramp that would- eventually- lead him back outside. ::But take him back! I swear to Primus, Starscream, you better put him back right this klik or I will glue your rudder straight and your flaps in opposite directions!::

::It would be most entertaining to witness you attempt such a thing.:: Starscream taunted, sounding quite proud. And happy, which was just entirely too creepy for Barricade and the police car turned on his lights and sirens.

::Did the hospital clear him for discharge? Did they say you could take him?::

::Why would we need their permission?:: Blackout asked curiously, entering into the conversation through a common Decepticon frequency channel. Starscream must have been relaying the conversation to the helicopter in real time.

If he had he been prone to such behavior, Barricade would have screamed in frustration. Instead he merely sped up, flying down the highway and nearly ramming other motorists out of his path then they were too slow. Ignoring Blackout's question, the scout posed his own. ::Is he awake? Is he actually talking coherently to you?::

::He vocalizes regularly.:: Starscream said, irritably.

That _so_ didn't answer Barricade's question. ::Can he orient himself to time and place?::

::Not sure.:: Blackout said thoughtfully. ::But he's not screaming and his systems sound fine.::

::Play me the audio.:: Barricade snapped. Seconds later he could hear Blackout addressing Sam, asking the human if he knew what solar it was. The answer made the scout's spark freeze because, honestly, there really wasn't one. Sure the human spoke but it was just slow, soft, and… slurred? syllables that didn't even remotely resemble words. Cross referencing the behavior against the information he'd hacked from the medical archives did nothing to make Barricade feel any better. ::Whoever has him, send me a video clip of him as he is at this klik.::

It was Blackout who sent him the file. ::His systems are operating within parameters, both as a sparkling and a squishy. His auto-repair system has kicked in and there's no trace of the energon in his system. His internal fluid pressure is a bit low but he's offline again so that's not too surprising. He's fine, you glitch, so calm down.::

Ignoring the helicopter, Barricade opened the file, picking out key elements of the picture and running them through an analysis program. Sam was not fine. Half his face was slack in a way that it simply should not have been since the other half of the human's face held at least a trace of the tension one expected to see in even a drugged teenager. The lack of mobility combined with the teenager's inability to say something coherent when prompted was especially damning considering that Barricade knew for a fact that Sam had not exhibited such behavior before now.

The scout forced himself to move faster in urgency even though he doubted there was no longer any point.

* * *

Megatron fought to keep his expression neutral as looked over the group in front of him. Starscream was glaring defiantly at a very dirty Barricade, making gestures expressively at the ground frame who continued to ignore him other than to make an unmistakably threatening whine while fussing over something in his hands. Blackout towered over them both, making placating gestures at the two awkwardly until they both turned to glare at him. With the exception of the police car, who continued to make that damnable armor rattling racket, the entire scene took place in silence, casting it almost in a periodic manner.

::What they doing?:: Brawl asked him privately, coming to stand behind the Decepticon leader. The tank was still brushing at the dirt and concrete smears that, like Megatron's own, marred his armor as he inclined his head at the trio who continued to gesticulate at one another and ignore all else.

"I do not know." Megatron drawled, inwardly frowning as the trio flinched and realized for the first time that he was present. "But I do expect to find out. _Now._"

Starscream and Blackout both dropped to the ground, kneeling in supplication before him. Barricade nodded in recognition but remained standing, hands cradling whatever he held gently against his chest.

Interesting.

Bowing was a way to show respect to someone of higher ranking but it could also be used to help gauge the mindset of the bower. The depth of the bow, how much of the body touched the ground, the quickness and efficiency with which it was done all gave the other party an advantage. Both air frames were feeling fairly guilty over something while Barricade was showing an uncharacteristic amount of anger, almost out-rightly challenging Megatron's authority.

Very interesting.

"You were not authorized to leave yesterday." Megatron stated, feigning disinterest while watching his underlings carefully. "Yet all three of you did. What was so pressing that you left knowing you were risking my wrath?"

Unsurprisingly it was Starscream who stood first, leaping to explain. "Lord Megatron! Barricade made an observation regarding Sam's health that required immediate attention."

"Did he?" Megatron's gaze shifted to focus squarely on the mech in question. Barricade glowered, all four optics bright with fury. "What was this pressing observation?"

The silence that followed was thick and heavy and no one seemed in any hurry to break it.

Something unpleasant seemed to brush across his spark, something cold and dark and frightening. "Where is Sam? What has happened to our sparkling?"

'Our' not 'my.' The word choice was intentionally, designed to remind them that they all had a vested interest in Sam's care, and it had the desired effect as behind him Brawl crowded closer, standing a little straighter. Barricade hunched his shoulders a bit more but it wasn't a sign of submission, more of a defensive move as the aggressive whine increased to something like the continuous roar from a buzz-saw. The police car was taking the human concept of 'paternal instinct' to a whole other level while both Starscream and Blackout seemed to shrink in on themselves.

"What has happened to our sparkling?" Megatron repeated as he walked to them and this time his tone made sure that the others knew that someone had better well answer this time.

Pushing between the other two roughly, Barricade stood in front of him and revealed what was in his hands, presenting the small curled form to Megatron's optics.

"He's stroked out." The police car said flatly, pinging a file to the Decepticon leader as he voiced the words. "Thanks to Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dee here he's permanently disabled."

"Who?" After running a viral scan on it, Megatron opened the file and began sorting through the information inside, becoming more and more confused as he read. "Barricade, why are you sending me information about a crippling human condition? Sam is a sparkling and this can be repaired."

Dust and sand sifted to the floor in a continuous hiss as Barricade began to tremble. The movement began subtly with the plating of his pedes, swept up his legs and spread loudly throughout his upper body until the mech was practically coming apart at his armor seams he was rattling so much. Despite this, it was with the utmost care that the police car opened part of his pectoral plating and placed Sam inside the revealed space before shutting the plating again and balling his fits at his side as he turned all four eyes on Megatron and glared, radiating anger like an unshielded nuclear reactor core leaked radiation.

For a variety of reasons, Megatron had always regarded Barricade as less, as weak, but, as the scout's armor retracted and flared, as his weapons modifications were revealed in a massive threatening display, the Decepticon Leader wondered if this assessment had been a serious oversight.

The constant buzz-saw-like whine abruptly cut out as the interceptor widened his stance, curled his hands into fists, and seemed to detonate like a war-head at the Decepticon Leader's feet.

"IT IS NOT A SPARKLING!" Barricade roared, both aloud and over the comm. relays at a volume loud enough to temporarily short out Megatron's audio receptors. By the time his hearing recovered, the small mech had a small caliber missile aimed at Starscream's head and was nearly done with his tirade. "-PIT SLAGGING, GLITCHING PIECE OF SLAG! COME NEAR HIM AGAIN AND I'LL SEND YOU TO THE UNMAKER MYSELF, FRAGGER!"

Growling, his ventilation systems whirling loudly, the police car turned his back on them all and stalked down a corridor to Megatron's left, weapons still blatantly visible.

"Well," Brawl said into the silence that followed. "That was different. Want me to go get him?"

"…No." Deciding that it would be better to allow Barricade time to cool down rather than beat the scout into submission, Megatron instead turned his attention to the remaining two. "Would someone care to explain what is wrong with Barricade? And our sparkling?"

Though he had made an effort to reign in his fraying temper before asking the question, it apparently hadn't been enough since both Starscream and Blackout quailed under his gaze.

* * *

Thank you all! Feed back is wholeheartedly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**** All recognizable characters of the Transformers franchise as well as the franchise itself are licensed and owned by Hasbro. I do this for entertainment purposes only and do not profit AT ALL- monetarily or otherwise- from the writing of these stories.**

**Disclaimer #2:**** I am not a medical professional! Do not use this story as a medical reference in any way, shape or form to treat someone during a medical emergency! To do otherwise is to place their life at risk and pave the way for a big fat lawsuit so DO NOT DO IT! Call 911 or get to a hospital ASAP!**

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Catalyst Chapter Three

* * *

Barricade rushed through his second well deserved wash in just as many solars and, not bothering to dry the solvent from his armor, headed immediately for Blackout's quarters to raid it for lubricant (no time restraints meant the offer was still good, slag it!) and then stomped back to his own room.

What a mess! What a complete and utter fragged-up mess!

So, of course, it would be up to him to fix everything. Primus!

Setting the container of lubricant down near the door for later use, the police car took a moment to run a quick systems check in order to control his rioting temper before seeing to the human teenager. Barricade stood still, listening to his own ventilation fans cycle on as the remaining solvent clinging to him dripped to the floor, his armor plating fluttering gently before sliding and scraping back into place. He took note of the locations of the noises and friction alerts for his later date with the lubricant and, when he felt that he was finally calm and dry enough to do so, he inhaled deeply through his nasal intakes, directing the flow over his olfactory sensors to analyze the fumes, relieved to find that the harsh solvents had evaporated sufficiently to be harmless to humans.

Feeling more awkward than he would ever admit, Barricade approached the shallow alcove dug out of the wall he had placed Ladiesman217 in before leaving to clean off. The alcove's placement was at the police car's shoulder height and was deep enough that Sam couldn't be accidently knocked out by a careless mech while protecting him somewhat from the cold air inside the base. Admittedly not the best place to leave a sick human but it was better than having him suffocate to death due to solvent's fumes.

Ladiesman217, unsurprisingly, wasn't looking very good. The human's ventilation system- _respiratory system_, _lungs, _he reminded himself, deciding to use the correct terminology- was heaving erratically in short ragged bursts, not even taking a full breath before expelling the air raggedly, the process interrupted by bouts of coughing. Face flushed, his heatsinks – didn't have an analog for that yet- were working so hard to keep the human cool that the stone he lay on was dark with moisture and the teenager's fuel pump- _Heart, it's called a heart_- was racing at an alarming rate. An absolutely vile odor was coming from the small body and, with spark-felt reluctance, Barricade ran it through his olfactory senses for analysis and nearly staggered under the combined scents of sweat and waste.

Hastily searching the internet for an original map of the base and cross referencing it with Blackout's, the scout frantically sought the closest human sized bathing area relative to Barricade's position. Locating one, he scooped Sam up and nearly ran for it, hoping to Primus that the stench would dissipate by the time the pair returned.

Barricade made a mental note to thoroughly sanitize the alcove and pick up air fresheners the next time he was in town.

And line his chest compartment with plastic.

* * *

::What's he doing?:: Blackout asked, peeking around the opening of the hallway.

The police car was a hundred meters down the narrow corridor from where they stood, sitting on the floor beside what remained of the human bathing facilities, his attention focused on the tub between his legs where the sparkling lay immersed in water, supported by one of the scout's hands while the other rubbed some sort of solution into the smaller form.

::I do not know. Some sort of grounder ritual?:: Starscream replied, risking a glance himself from his position on the opposite side of the doorway, the hand containing the 'ambulance' tightening enough to make the weak Earth metal whine in protest.

The pair continued to watch, growing more confused as Barricade's small silver fingers periodically dribbled clear liquid over Sam to rinse off the odd accumulation of white bubbles that would gather on the sparkling's dermal plating due to the application of the substance the scout was applying. The process was repeated over and over several times until at long last the interceptor was apparently satisfied and lifted the sparkling from the tub, holding Sam over the container. After giving the youngling a final rinse, Barricade pulled a white cloth from a subspace compartment, wrapped it around the sparkling and opened his front vents to blow air over Sam as the police car tipped the tiny tub over to drain its contents before shelving it inside the human bathing chamber.

It was as Barricade was rubbing down one of the sparkling's arms that Sam roused with a cry, little body twitching alarmingly, and the scout immediately shifted his grip, simply holding the sparkling under one of the interceptor's front vents until the little one calmed.

::Do you think he knows he's chirping?:: Blackout asked as the high frequency sound reached the pair, echoing off the concrete walls and eliciting the same response from the helicopter. ::For all he insists Sam's not a sparkling, the grounder sure responds to him like one.::

::Universal core coding.:: Starscream grunted after a klik, then frowned, realizing that he had begun chirping as well. ::It is part of the initial operational code used on all frames.::

"You two suck at hiding." Barricade called, looking up and glaring at them with three eyes, the fourth remaining centered on Sam. "And stop making so much noise! It's making my dente ache!"

The two flyers looked at each other then stepped into view, having to take care as they approached the seated mech, navigating the low ceilinged corridor warily. From a strategic standpoint, it was an odd choice for a defensible position since the area was relatively open, an intersection of three relatively short halls with no cover to exploit, but one step forward into the confined space made it clear why Barricade had chosen such a spot to do… well, whatever it was the scout was doing.

"We came to check on Sam." Starscream said without preamble, turning sideways to accommodate his wings and sitting a few feet from the smaller mech. The jet presented the slightly dented human vehicle he held, jerking his chin up and away from Barricade petulantly.

Since Starscream's bulk blocked the helicopter from getting any closer, Blackout was forced to crouch behind the Air Commander, compacting his larger frame awkwardly so that he could get as close as possible. The helicopter remained silent but nodded in agreement with the Seeker's statement, watching with curiosity as Barricade's small talons flashed out and eagerly snatched the offering from the jet.

The police car's chest compartment popped open with a loud snap of latches, the sound quickly replaced by the rush-rush of rerouted air as Barricade placed Sam in the newly exposed depth. Surprisingly, once the sparkling was safely inside, the scout left the compartment open even though it hampered the mobility of the arm on that side. The rate of air pumping through the chamber increased as Barricade's front vents sealed, the direction of flow shifting to blow from the rear of the compartment over the sparkling and out the front as Barricade used both hands to inspect the vehicle.

"So this is gonna help Sam?" Blackout asked, watching with interest as Barricade's small phalanges easily opened the rear doors and held the open vehicle up to optic level, peering inside.

The police car grunted noncommittally, shifting the vehicle and holding it in one hand while the other began extracting items, organizing them all into various piles on the floor.

"What is Sam's status?" Starscream asked quietly, and Blackout could hear the Seeker's optics recalibrating to allow the jet to look into Barricade's chest compartment where the sparkling was all but invisible amid its nest. "What is his estimated recovery time?"

Barricade set the ambulance down on the floor carefully, watching the vehicle rock slowly to a stop on its wheels before shifting his attention to the piles around his pedes, sorting through the collection of ludicrously small bottles and fluid containers.

"He's sick." The interceptor's voice was flat. "And long."

Starscream shifted where he sat, armor plates clicking as they fluttered restlessly in distress and irritation. "Can you be more specific?"

"He's in pain." Barricade growled, holding up his hand and examining it. Already small and fragile looking, the digits split into even smaller segments, each phalange dividing down the middle so that the base of each was suddenly sprouting two long, delicate multi-segmented lengths that ended in tips so fine they were almost invisible. When the process was complete, Barricade flexed all eight digits to test mobility and then held his hand over the piles he had made.

"I didn't know you could do that!" As Blackout watched in fascination, each phalange began to move with efficiency and complete dexterity, some selecting tiny bottles while several worked in tandem to pick up a long bag that was filled with fluid and had some clear tubing attached to it. "What's that for?"

"Never asked." Barricade grunted, raising his hand to head height again. One optic narrowed at the tiny labels of the bottles, another unfocused completely in a telltale sign that the scout was sorting through data, and the remaining two stayed targeted on the pair of flyers. "Gonna mix him a sedative before I start treating him."

"But that was not your initial purpose in this place." Starscream stated, cocking his head to the side, optics narrowing. "You were bathing the spark-Sam. You were bathing Sam. Why were you using dihydrogen monoxide to clean him instead of a mild solvent?"

"Because it'd melt his skin off." The scout replied curtly, optics going dark though his transformed hand became active once more. One of the phalanges began to transform, the thin flat segments curving inward until they met to form a shortened tube the thickness of a human hair. When the process was over, the flexible whip-like construction started spearing the tops of some of the bottles, siphoning up specific varying quantities of the fluids within each one.

"Do you require assistance retrieving him?" The jet asked as Barricade's transformed hand moved toward the open chest compartment, the needle-like digit leading the path.

"No." The scout said just as the thin phalange darted forward into the blankets in a blur. Starscream tensed and Blackout's rotors flared as the sparkling gave a soft wordless moan before silencing altogether.

"What did you do?" Nearly flattening the Air Commander against the wall in the process, the helicopter reached forward and wrapped his hand around Barricade's wrist and jerked it back away from the from the sparkling. Blackout tightened his grip as he heard Sam's fuel pump and ventilation fans gradually slow. "What did you do to him?"

The sound sharp in the narrow space, Starscream trilled a query to the sparkling and, when Sam remained unresponsive, wrapped a hand around Barricade's neck, tightening his grip until some of the actuators in the scout's throat began to whine in protest.

"Do you have a patch gun?" The scout asked calmly, showing no indication that he was bothered by the other two manhandling him or their tacit implication that they were about to cause him sever bodily harm. "I need it to set Sam's broken struts."

"A…patch gun?" The jet repeated slowly, amusement and puzzlement chasing away the anger. Bit by bit, Starscream's digits uncurled and backed away, though the wicked barbs remained held at the ready to dive back in should the scout's question be a diversion.

"I've got one." Blackout offered, fetching the item from a subspace pocket and holding it up.

"May I borrow it?" Barricade asked patiently when the helicopter didn't immediately give it to him. He tugged his wrist, reminding the helicopter that he still held it, and Blackout hastily released the appendage, handing the patch gun over. "Thank you."

The scout took the gun with a shallow nod and, moving with extreme care, fished the sparkling from his chest and presented Sam for their mutual inspection. Several scans later, the pair of flyers resettled themselves and gave him room though their optics remained on the sparkling.

"What did you give him?" Blackout asked, waving an awkward greeting to Sam, who blinked up at them with no reaction. The helicopter rotated his head, optics focusing sharply as he noticed a distinct lack of movement from the left half of the sparkling's head. "And why is his facial plating malfunctioning?"

Barricade set the patch gun down in favor of pulling the ambulance closer, speaking as he unloaded another object from the back of the vehicle. "Half of Sam's body doesn't work and I suspect his abilities to think and speak have been severely impaired because you two fraggers couldn't obey one simply order." All four eyes focused on Blackout in an unyielding, openly hostile glare that seemed to bore right through to the helicopter's spark chamber. "The squishies are primitive- fine, no argument here- but other than a true, sane medic, they still were the only ones who had a chance of helping Ladiesman217. That chance is gone now- did you even leave the hospital intact when you took him?"

"Yes," Starscream said testily. "The building still stands, undamaged and functional."

The scout laid Sam down upon the... Was that a berth? Blackout rotated his neck servos and leaned forward, deciding that, yes, the squishy-sized thing on wheels was some sort of berth. Sam took the new position without resistance though he did make a soft sound when Barricade unwrapped the cloth around the sparkling.

"The discoloration has spread." Starscream remarked, labial plates twisting into a frown as he looked the sparkling over. "Is that due to the strut misalignment underneath?"

"Yup, and then some." The scout answered distractedly, pulling a container of some sort of clear gel from a subspace pocket, scooping a minimal portion of the substance out with his augmented fingers. Barricade carefully picked up Sam's right arm by the wrist and began liberally smearing the greasy substance along the skin, moving delicately when his fingers encountered a discolored area. Barricade gave the arm a small tug and, with a wince, Blackout could both see and hear the broken strut realign back into its regular placement. The scout picked up the patch gun, adjusted the chemical ratio of the mix, and pulled the trigger, squeezing a small amount along the sparkling's arm, evenly smearing the opaque fluid so that it encompassed the appendage.

This pattern of treatment- spread gel, apply patch- continued for a while and the three mechs sat in silence interrupted by the quiet hum of Starscream's engines and ventilation fans cycling to produce a continuous wash of warm air over Sam in the scout's place.

"You missed his rib struts." Blackout pointed at the area in question when Barricade set the gun down. The scout had treated Sam's chassis with the gel but, unlike with the rest of the areas of damage, had failed to coat it with the protective patch solution.

"If I patch that, he'll deactivate once it hardens." Barricade said, rapping a segment of his phalange against the hard protective sheath now covering Sam's arm. The digit pinged off with a sharp _tink_, the cast not even showing signs it had been touched. "That part of him has to be able to move freely even if it hurts which it won't because now I can sensor-block him for as long as it takes him to heal."

The bag of fluid he'd held all this time finally saw use as the scout unwound the tubing and unsheathed the end of the flexible line revealing a small barb that slid easily into Sam's dermal plating. Blackout waited for some sort of response from the small body but the sparkling's optics didn't shift from their half lidded state. In fact, a click later, Sam appeared to drop fully into recharge.

Barricade stood with a loud whine of protesting metal, picking up the wad of cloth he'd dried the sparkling with as he did so. As he spoke, he absently used it to wipe each phalange clean. "We're going back to my quarters. Don't stop by."

After subspacing everything he deemed valuable, the scout pulled a small rectangular brown cloth from another pocket, laid it down inside his chest compartment then carefully picked Sam up. Once the sparkling was safely tucked beneath the cloth and the container of fluid hung on a hook on the inside of the compartment's wall, Barricade shut the door. Squatting instead of leaning over, he pushed the little berth on wheels back into the ambulance and picked the vehicle up by its back end, dragging it behind him as he left.

"Other than Frenzy, has Barricade ever cared for a symbiote?" Blackout asked when the scout was no longer in sensor range. The helicopter began carefully backing up, his own gyros and joints whining in protest as he moved.

"I do not… believe so." Starscream said though with markedly less arrogance than normal as he followed Blackout's lead to leave the cramped corridor. "Soundwave was not happy with Lord Megatron's order to pair Frenzy with Barricade, however. I had heard that adjustments had to be made to Barricade's frame so that the parasite could be housed… Perhaps a behavioral program was installed as well."

Blackout grunted thoughtfully, not thoroughly convinced that the conclusion was correct but unable explain what was wrong with it. Barricade had always been one of the most even tempered members of the Decepticon Army unless some fragger riled him enough to fry his logic circuits but, still… The scout was a private mech and didn't like having his privacy invaded. Even if a program was running to keep his tolerance of the invasion high, it didn't explain why out of all of them he was the only mech who seemed to know what the sparkling needed and how to provide for it when all of them had at least a rudimentary version of a nesting routine.

He frowned. The sparkling's condition should have improved under their care, if it were to improve at all, not the organics. Being around the older mechs should have helped strengthen Sam's spark but that hadn't happened either- instead no matter how much basic Cybertronian care they provided, the sparkling just got worse and worse until he was practically deactivated. Why was Sam improving now that he was being treated as a _human_ with _human_ medicine, using _human_ treatments-

-That train of thought, along with the growing suspicion that Sam was anything but a sparkling, abruptly derailed in the helicopter's mind as a subroutine engaged, gently inserting an alternative but plausible theory about the situation.-

But Sam had been sparked on Earth and Cybertronians were programmed to hide from the beginning. There was no telling how long the sparkling had been among the humans before being found by his people and Sam's developing body had been forced to adapt efficiently or face deactivation. He didn't have the mass to disguise himself as a vehicle like the other mechs could so Sam's core programming had done the next best thing and had hid him among the humans. From what Blackout had seen on the internet, humans were fragile and needed a lot of care and Sam, posing as a human youngling, would need to be able to withstand the normal poking and prodding that came from regular human maintenance.

"Yeah, that must be it… No, wait…" He put a hand to his head, lurching to a stop as his processor suddenly flaring with error and incompatibility messages. Each explanation, both his own and Starscream's, were based upon logical reasoning but, despite this, a small part of him continued to doubt and remained unsure. It wavered stubbornly, an analysis program coming online and sorting through the data quickly. If it had to be treated like a human, had the needs of a human, and he could scan it like a human then it had to be-

-This time when the subroutine activated it was not gentle; not only did it derail Blackout's train of thought but smashed it into bits before locking it all in an encrypted file. Sam was a sparkling, nothing more, nothing less. The same plausible explanation as to Sam's strange needs was once again thrust to the forefront of Blackout's cortex as all evidence of the internal battle was collected to be purged next defrag cycle.

"Come," Starscream's hand on his shoulder startled the disoriented helicopter, making him jump. "It is your duty cycle after mine and I will not tolerate tardiness or glitching. Go recharge so you are functional."

Right- duty cycle. Nodding, Blackout headed to his quarters, one hand still rubbing his processor even though it no longer ached. He passed by Barricade's room but his temptation to stop by was quickly overruled once he caught sight of the scout busily oiling his leg joints with one hand while the other painted Blackout's chassis with the laser sight of the scout's arm gun. Hastily moving on, the helicopter found his room and, after setting his internal chronometer to wake him at the appropriate time, powered down to enjoy as much recharge as possible before his shift started.

* * *

_It was burning his hands but he held on to the Cube with everything he had, forcing it up, up, up toward Megatron's chest, aiming for the hole revealing the pale blue spark as the Cube got hotter and hotter, fusing to Sam's flesh so that he couldn't let go even if he tried, holding him hostage as it rose upward, gravitating toward Megatron's spark, electricity arching through his flesh, burning him up, burning the world. Too hot, too hot, the burning consuming everything, and, God, he was going to die! He was going to die here, trapped between two giant alien robots that both wanted the Cube, burned alive by the damn thing until nothing but ash remained, and a tiny voice inside him cried out in despair over his fate. _

_It wasn't his war, should never have been his war, but he'd been pulled into it and now he was going to die because of it. It wasn't fair and he didn't want to die but neither did he want the fight to continue. Skin on fire, he thrust upward, wanting peace, wanting the battle to stop, and the idea seemingly resonated through every cell like a defiant cry, a adamant refusal of it all that rang through his chest, up his arms and into the Cube where he touched it, growing louder until it was an incoherent scream that chased everything else from his mind. It had to end here- now- or else there would be nothing left fighting for and if the destruction of the All Spark could be a catalyst for change then so be it!_

_But then Optimus Prime intervened, grabbing hold of the Cube before it could connect, while Megatron…_

_Megatron grabbed Sam._

Grinding, crushing agony greeted Sam as he jerked awake, and the teenager nearly choked on the moan that lodged itself in his throat, the need to breathe and the urge to remain still warring with one another while the teenager's heart attempted to claw its way out of his chest as the battle raged. Heat registered in his consciousness next, a heat so intense that it felt as if he were laying at the mouth of a blast furnace, parts of him cracking under it, the delicate skin catching on the fabric covering him and tearing under the slightest pressure. Some of wounds were oozing, the fluid seeping out to cover the surrounding area and becoming a gooey mess that stuck to everything it came into contact with before involuntary movements started the process over again. Pain ate at the world, narrowing it down until it had consumed everything else and left only itself behind, and Sam became distantly aware that he was making noises no human being should ever make under any circumstances.

He didn't register the prick of a needle against the skin of his neck or the flat flexible piece of metal that cupped his forehead until both moved away. Immediately, his panic began to weaken and fade away, leaving Sam incredibly calm and blessedly pain-free as unfamiliar snake-like appendages appeared in his peripheral vision to lift him, blankets and all, out into blinding light.

The brief spurt of panic that tried to burst through him died as quickly as it came and Sam could only blink sluggishly as he was moved, the sensation ceasing not long after as he was resettled on a new surface, one that conformed to his body in a way that made a part of his brain rouse in alarm. Something wasn't right with this situation, something was off, and he watched with growing suspicion as long segmented fingers began straightening the cloth around him, tucking the edges beneath him firmly but not tight enough to make him uncomfortable. Something mechanical below him clicked on and, with a soft whir of fans, cool air began to blow from below him, and it wasn't until that moment that Sam realized how feverish he felt now that he could feel anything beyond the pain.

_Wait… fingers?_ His one responsive eye drifted upward slowly, trying to see past the circle of illumination above him, his heavily medicated mind uselessly attempting to gibber in fear as it finally pieced together his situation. The only beings big enough to manhandle him as easily as he would a small animal were… were…

The light made his eye ache and water but Sam was absurdly grateful for its presence all the same. In his peripheral vision he could make out only darkness and, though he knew it was just his mind playing tricks on him, the teenager was acutely aware of a sense of weight to the shadows, as if something lurked in that unperceivable space just waiting to roll over his unresponsive body and crush him beneath some great unimaginable mass.

It made him feel bizarrely claustrophobic and Sam began shivering, suddenly cold with inexplicably fear. He found himself reaching out to the nearest finger, suddenly desperate for contact, for a tangible confirmation of safety, and when he got it, when a warm metal finger slipped hesitantly into his weak grip, it provided as much comfort and relief as Sam had hoped it would.

He felt his eyelid drooping, his grip slackening as the drugs began to slowly suck him under and, exhausted, Sam could offer no resistance. Cool metal settled on his head, startling him briefly awake before the gentle hum of electricity under his ear lulled him back to sleep to dream of gears and cogs and things he had no name for.

* * *

A/N: Okay so I tried not to end on so much of a cliff hanger because I think I'm over my funk concerning 'Serendipity's' latest chapter… (Megatron would. Not. Cooperate!) so I'm going to turn my attention back to that for a while. I'm not abandoning 'Catalyst' but it'll be a bit before the next chapter appears- so if anyone has a strong desire for certain interactions between characters in this story, now's a good time to make a request since, though I have a general sense of where I'm taking this, the plot is rather skeletal and in need of fleshing out at this point.

Now, unsurprisingly I'm being asked a lot about why the Decepticons except Barricade are being, well, odd. Though this will be addressed in the next few chapters, I would suggest that, rather than thinking about the issue in terms of 'what is wrong with them?' why not try instead 'what sets Barricade apart from all the Decepticons _we have seen so far_?'

But that's just my opinion. *cough* Brawl *cough, cough*

A special thank you to all of you who review- they well and truly make my day and encourage me to write more!


	4. Chapter 4

Catalyst Chapter Four

* * *

"Have they found anything?" Mikaela asked breathlessly once she reached the familiar yellow camaro idling in her driveway. The dark tinted window of the front passenger side rolled down and, for both appearances and to allow her to catch her breath after running full speed down her apartment's steps, the brunet leaned into the car as if she were speaking with the vehicle's driver.

Not that there was one, of course, not since Sam disappeared after the battle of Mission City.

She stonily ignored the ache that welled up at that thought and instead concentrated on Bumblebee's empty interior as she waited for the Autobot to respond. The review mirror was now devoid of decorations, she noticed absently, and the seat padding seemed more bare-boned than it had been though it wasn't like anyone was spending time inside the car to complain since the camaro refused to admit anyone inside, not even her. This reminded Mikaela strangely as an act of fidelity, as if Bumblebee's sudden abstinence from human contact was his way of remaining loyal to Sam even though the other wasn't present. It was…interesting and made Mikaela feel as if she had at least one ally in her mission to find the missing teenager while the other Autobots were too preoccupied with the well fair of their precious Cube.

The fact that the All Spark was suddenly inert didn't seem to bother the Autobots any; they just continued to poke and prod, running test after test in their pursuit to get some sort of response from the lifeless hunk of metal as they settled into their new home, Edwards Air Force Base . After a lot of negotiation between Optimus and Keller, the Mojave Desert base had been chosen to house the Cybertronians who had gone without complaint since the intense heat of the area didn't bother them. It did bother Mikaela though and she had yet to visit them in their new home.

"No," Bumblebee said quietly, interrupting her thoughts. "We haven't found anything."

Mikaela felt her face fall as the hope that had been swelling in her breast abruptly punctured and deflated with a small whine. Face hot, her eyes burned and she rubbed at them, struggling to breathe past the painful sobs trying to clog up her throat and find her voice again

_Please don't let him be dead!_ Mikaela had yet to sort out how she personally felt about Sam, about this boy who had been a silent, overlooked part of her life until Barricade showed up and their world got turned up-side down. The relationship between Sam and her was still too new to be classified by any of the standards she had previously used and so most of her emotions concerning the missing teenager were a tangled mess, the only exceptions being worry and anger over his absence.

Immediately following the events of Mission City, the Autobots had expected some sort of ransom demand once it was clear that Sam had been taken prisoner by the Decepticons. The Autobots had the Cube, after all, and since that was what all the fighting had been over, it wasn't too far a leap to assume that the Decepticons would use Sam as leverage to initiate a trade. In between tests on the All Spark, Optimus had assured Mikaela that this was what would happen and that the Autobots were ready with a plan to free Sam without having to hand over the Cube. All they had to do was wait.

In truth, Mikaela had expected immediate reports of Decepticon attacks since they weren't known for their patience or subtlety and they were sure to be pissed over getting their heads scrambled. Whatever had happened between Megatron, Optimus, Sam and the All Spark had released a pulse of energy no one had ever seen before outside of a cosmic explosion. It had knocked out both human and Cybertronian alike with the added effect of repairing the mechs regardless of faction, and had knocked out every electronic in the city. For two hours, Mission City had stood still, no one or thing moving in the city until at long last the Autobots rebooted.

Both the Decepticons and Sam had been nowhere to be found.

It had been a week since Mission City and there had been no ransom demands. The Decepticons had remained silent and well hidden, suddenly showing caution instead of their characteristic bravado, leaving no clues about their intentions concerning the Cube or what they had done with Sam. Though Optimus remained stubbornly confident that the Decepticons would make contact eventually, Mikaela's hope about the situation having a positive outcome was dwindling and as it did the possibility that the missing teenager had simply been killed grew higher and higher.

"But there were more land-falls a couple days ago and I saw some earlier tonight!" She insisted desperately, wiping at her eyes again and hating the fact that the tears fell despite her efforts. "Shouldn't you guys be able to track the impacts and follow them back to their hideout? It's been a week already!"

"They are well hidden, Mikaela." The camaro said, sounding a bit put out and- dare she say it- angry. Maybe he was as frustrated as she was with the lack of progress concerning Sam's rescue. "Wherever they are, they're either out of range of our scanners or something is blocking them."

Mikaela had to fight hard to reign in the desire to kick the Autobot's tires in aggravation. "Can't you ask the military to, I dunno, borrow their satellites for a while and scan Earth from space? Ratchet said the All Spark radiation is fairly unique so couldn't you just reprogram one temporarily to map out any hits? Then maybe Optimus could authorize a search party to go check each place out…?"

"I don't think we have the man-power…"

"Don't give me that bullshit, 'Bee!" She hissed and this time she did kick the camaro. "I know from Mudflap and Skids that half the landings were Autobots! Even not counting those, I know that there's at least five more of you planet side now with more on the way if the geek chatter is anything to go by."

"'Geek chatter?'"

She scowled, rubbing her arms as the chill of the night air finally registered. Two in the morning was no time to be outside without a jacket even in Nevada. "While you guys have been playing with your hunk of metal, I've been doing my own snooping online."

"It's the All Spark, Mikaela!" The camaro snapped, engine revving and startling some small animal in the dumpster nearby. "Our survival depends on getting it to work again! It's important!"

"More important than getting Sam back?"

The question fell like a stone from her lips, silently landing with the force of a bomb in the narrow alleyway between them. Bumblebee's idling engine abruptly cut out and Mikaela stared hard at the camaro, waiting for the other to answer, waiting for him to prove that she was wrong in her accusation. It was cruel, absolutely and unfairly so, but she was through being patient and nice because Sam was counting on them and they were running out of time.

What if he was already dead? What if they'd killed him during those missing two hours and his body just hadn't been discovered yet, buried under a mountain of rubble?

At the very least, she owed Sam a proper funeral and his parents an answer, Mikaela and the Autobots both.

Silently Bumblebee's gearshift moved, shifting into drive by itself and Mikaela obediently stepped away from the car, watching as her only ally soundlessly turned onto the street and drove away. Stifling a sob, the brunet shivered violently as she headed up the stairs to her apartment and slammed the door behind her, betrayal nesting in her heart.

* * *

What. The. Frag.

Systems warming to optimum performance level, Barricade stared at the ambulance sitting in the doorway of his room, eyeing it in the same manner a soldier would eye a potential IED. A quick glance up at the corner next to him confirmed that, yes, the one Starscream had given him yesterday was still where the scout had placed it before slipping into recharge and had not been moved during the night. The scout felt his left optic twitch, paranoia over someone creeping around his recharge ebbing away to be replaced by an alert by his well-honed stupidity meter.

_Somehow, I am going to be blamed for this._

Figuring that it would be best to stop whatever plan was in the works now rather than later when damage control would be a lost cause, Barricade stood, pleased that he barely made a sound as he did so. Ladiesman217, currently held in the scout's left hand, showed no indication that he had even registered moving and continued to recharge quietly as Barricade cautiously approached the innocent looking vehicle directly in his path.

A scan showed that it was exactly what it appeared to be, no more or less, but even so the scout didn't touch it, instead edging around it as he left the room. However, once in the hallway, he pulled up short, paranoia flaring full force and making all four of his optics twitch at the trail of small cylinders that began three earth meters from the left of his door, led all the way down the hall then disappeared around a bend in the corridor.

"I am so not going to like this." Barricade grumbled, glancing down at the human. To his surprise, the human was… well, not asleep though it would be a stretch to say he was actually awake since his eye seemed to not be working correctly enough to open though the effort was obvious. The scout debated sedating him into recharge again before he could fully rouse- having to deal with a screaming terrified human was never any fun, especially when you couldn't just kill them to shut them up, and given what the little fleshling had been through previously when meeting Decepticons, Barricade deemed it a safe bet that Sam was going to go stark raving nuts once he saw their optics…

But what if he couldn't see? Without any visual feedback, there was no way for a pathetic human to tell what side a Cybertronian was on, not if none of them were trying to harm him. Barricade paused, considering, then pulled a roll of bandages from a subspace pocket and quickly wound the cloth around the human's head, covering his closed eyes with layer upon layer of the stuff. There. If anyone asked, Barricade could use the truthful excuse that Sam's eyes were sensitive to light and exposure could do permanent harm.

Well, one problem solved. The scout flexed the tip of his index phalange briefly before placing it against the human's forehead, initiating a minor scan and logging the information that bounced back to him. Removing the digit, Barricade stared at it with an expression of utmost revulsion, his optics narrowed, processor a battlefield as his personality matrix warred with his logic programs for several kliks, but ultimately gave in and flicked his glossa out, licking the tip clean.

_Disgusting!_ He thought, armor plating shuddering before resignedly rattling closed. You would think he'd be used to this by now since he'd been doing it all night but, nope, no such luck. As a scout, Barricade's sensors could provide a lot of information about a battle ground but they were almost useless when it came to analyzing the human body and so other measures needed to be employed in order to accurately gauge Ladiesman217's condition. It was necessary yet that fact did little to comfort Barricade as he waited impatiently for the results to show on his HUD.

When they finally did, the scout consulted his pilfered medical files, pulled the medication he needed from its subspace placement, and mixed the necessary pain relieving cocktail before carefully pricking the skin of Sam's neck.

"Feeling better?" The scout asked in English, not really expecting a reply but getting a soft noise of agreement though it quickly turned into a barking cough. That was a surprise- maybe the cerebral damage wasn't as bad as Barricade had initially concluded if Sam had regained rudimentary control of his language centers. The cough however was worrying and Barricade set a data mining program to run in the back of his processor to hunt through the internet for information about the new ailment. "Awesome. I suppose we should find you some fuel… Frag."

Opting to squat rather than bend over to do so, handling it as if it might detonate at any klik, the scout carefully picked up the first can in the trail leading from his door, scanning it and referencing the image on the label with information on the internet.

Peaches. It was a can full of peaches. In syrup.

A scan of the next can in line revealed that it contained several different varieties of fruit in a mix. The can after that was preserved carrots followed by cans of tomatoes, cranberry sauce, pears, nectarines, pineapple slices, green beans… The list went on and it was maddeningly frustrating because though it was human food, Sam could eat none of it in his current condition. Having to force himself not to stomp in frustration, scanning each can as he passed it, the scout reluctantly followed the trail hoping that whichever moron was responsible for this may have included at least something with a greater liquid consistency so that the human could swallow it without worry of suffocation.

Corn? No. Tuna fish? The protein was a definite possibility for later. Taco Sauce? Barricade didn't know what a 'taco' was so, no. Green Enchiladas? See 'Taco Sauce' analysis. Pork & Beans? See 'Tuna fish' analysis. Beef broth?

Barricade paused, considering the small can by his pede before admitting defeat and continuing on, growing more and more impatient as the foodstuffs began to repeat themselves. More tomatoes. More peaches, nectarines, green beans, chicken soup-

He nearly destroyed the can in his haste to grab it, practically pouncing on it before picking it up and holding it aloft in victory.

"Lunch time, kiddo!" Barricade announced excitedly, studying the can's label and the preparation instructions printed on the small slip of paper. Cooking a full human meal was beyond the scout's capabilities but this 'soup' stuff (Heat and serve? Barricade could handle that.) would be perfect for his human charge until solid foods could be introduced. One can wasn't going to do it though since humans needed to refuel a minimum of three times a day to remain healthy so more would be needed…

More would be needed.

_Slag._

Barricade followed the trail of cans around the turn, vastly disappointed then it ended in, of all things, a stuffed teddy bear, a new plastic wrapped blanket, and a small first aid kit.

"You," Barricade said flatly with two optics on Sam, one on the can of soup, and the last warily watching the small pile of goodies. "Are going to be the destruction of the Decepticon Army."

Though he said it said it in a way that implied such an event would be akin to the destruction of the universe, a small part of Barricade's spark flared up over the concept of the war ending. So much death, so much loss, and all of it pointless because their species was dying, a fact no one seemed willing to actually _see,_ all too busy focusing on winning at all costs. Who cared who the victor was when soon no one would be around to celebrate? When the final battle was fought and the victor chosen, what good would it do them, what comfort would it bring them, if they were the only surviving member left? What would factions matter once the survivor looked around and realized that now they were the only remnant of a race that had destroyed itself with war? That the only evidence of Cybertron and her people ever existing was a heap of twisted scrap metal corpses, a razed planet, and one solitary mech that would eventually join the death toll because the containment field for their sparks would inevitably eventually fail, their fuel powering it depleted because one mech alone could not mine energon? As antisocial as he was, if it were Barricade in such a position, he would have stuck his plasma cannon in his chassis and blown his spark away.

Armor rattling as he shuddered involuntarily, Barricade tried to banish such useless thoughts and crush the part of his spark that kept insisting he act. But defiant and as unwavering as a plasma blast in its intensity, the idea wouldn't go away and instead seemed to force more of itself into his consciousness. The path both sides were on would only lead to complete destruction but they didn't have to follow it to its end. If something intervened now, before all was lost, then maybe they as a species had hope. They could rebuild and resettle on someplace new but there had to be a catalyst of some sort…

Almost of its own accord, one of Barricade's optics drifted downward and focused on Sam. The Decepticons had been acting weird ever since Megatron picked up Sam. The situation was not all hearts and flowers, as the humans might say, but they were facing enough problems currently that someone should have gotten into a confrontation with someone else by now. None of the other Decepticons were even tempered; in fact, with rare exception, they were all homicidally volatile, a trait Megatron had consistently encouraged since the war began. Someone should have tried to put someone else through a wall by now and yet, as far as Barricade was aware, there had been no fighting of any kind. They were all working together, even Megatron, to remodel the base for their needs and provide for a human that the others considered a sparkling.

The change of pace was, dare he say, an improvement over how things had been previously and somehow Sam had started it.

Barricade picked up the teddy bear and placed it in his chest compartment before subspacing the blanket, first aid kit, and the damn line of canned goods at his feet. Finished, he pulled the blanket already around Sam higher, and checked the casts covering the human's limbs.

He looked down at the squishy and for once did not see a bargaining chip, did not see a way to save his aft from the Autobots. For a brief klik, all Barricade could see was hope as his processors presented him with an idea that was so insane his logic centers nearly fritzed themselves into blowing out permanently. But then reality reared its ugly head and the scout shook himself angrily, glaring at the human he held as if everything was Sam's fault.

Stupid human. Stupid war. Stupid… Barricade. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"I gotta get you back to the 'Bots before you get me killed." He muttered, pulling up the floor plan of the base on his HUD and stomping down a corridor, his audio sensors detecting the tell-tale ultrasonic vibrations of approaching jet engines just as his comm. pinged with a message from Megatron. Barricade felt his spark sink and turned to trudge wearily to the throne room at the heart of the base.

"You summoned me?" He asked, dutifully presenting himself at the foot of the throne, optics surveying the room's occupants as he fought to keep his tone and expression neutral. Usually Barricade would have been grateful to not be left alone in the same room as Megatron but the interceptor wasn't exactly certain if Brawl's presence would be a blessing or if it indicated something much more sinister in the works.

"…Yes, I did." Optics narrowed, Megatron leaned forward in his chair, rested his elbows on the armrests and steepled his fingers. "Thank you for deigning to grace us with your presence, Barricade."

Or, maybe, Barricade had simply imagined everything and Megatron was still Megatron and Barricade was still everybody's punching bag, "sparkling" or no. It was clear that something had seriously aggravated the the silver mech and the scout could do nothing but remain silent and still as he stood before his leader, hoping that the fear shivering through Barricade's spark didn't outwardly show. On a good day, Megatron had a nasty talent for sniffing out weakness in a mech and an even worse ability to exploit it in agonizing detail. The scout had mercifully never seen what happened on bad days but he had heard and the tales haunted his memory purges.

A tense silence stretched between them, broken at odd intervals by Brawl's armor plates shifting restlessly, and Barricade debated with himself internally if he should continue to wait it out in a subtle act of defiance or if he should break it to allow Megatron to save face.

As it turned out, Ladiesman217 saved him from having to come to a decision, the human making a small noise as he struggled to shift position among his bedclothes. Megatron's eyes snapped downward, focusing intensely on Barricade's hand, facial plates shifting from a closed expression to one of pleasure.

"He knows his rescuer is nearby and is eager to say hello." The Decepticon leader, tone proud as he held out his hand toward the scout. "Let him come greet me properly."

Barricade's optics darted back and forth between the two appendages apprehensively. "My Lord, with all due respect, I believe that's a bad idea." Like, unbelievably bad.

"Do you now?" Megatron's almost friendly demeanor began to fade away to be replaced by something far more sinister as the larger mech slowly stood, looming over the small scout.

_Me and my massive oral intake,_ was all Barricade had time to think.

* * *

"Do not pick at it, Skywarp!" Starscream's barbed talons flashed out to intercept the other Seeker's wrist before it could cause further damage to the wound.

"But it hurts!" Skywarp whined, trying to pull his hand free and failing. "Slagging Autobots!"

"They were more… persistent than normal." Thundercracker remarked, frowning slightly.

The observation was an understatement of nearly epic proportions; the Autobots had proved to be an unrelenting obstacle for all the Decepticons making planet-fall earlier and had demonstrated an almost ruthless attitude that previously had never appeared before. Prime and his Autobots were out for blood, as the human saying went, and Starscream felt the edges of his labial plates curl upward in vindictive pleasure that despite the new found aggression, the Decepticons had still come out victorious even if they were a bit singed.

Skywarp's free hand began creeping toward the ugly hole burned through his wing only to be intercepted this time by Thundercracker.

If the trio felt self-conscious about striding around the base hand in hand, it was well hidden as they continued, Starscream leading the way toward their quarters. Until the Constructicons got here, the corridors were still too small to accommodate two large frames walking shoulder let along three and so the trine walked one behind the other, allowing their frequencies to resonate and announce their position to anyone else in the area so as to avoid embarrassing pile ups.

Even so, Starscream and his Trine barely had time to prevent themselves from running into on another as Barricade's small form abruptly came flying through the doorway of the throne room. The smaller mech slammed into the stone hard enough to crack it before hitting the floor in an unmoving pile at Starscream's feet.

Skywarp peeked around the Air Commander's wing, poked Barricade with a pede, and laughed when the scout didn't stir.

"I will not tolerate this behavior any longer!" Megatron roared, his heavy steps announcing his approach before he appeared in the doorway that Barricade had been hurled through. "From now on, I will care for the sparkling and you," The Decepticon leader paused ominously, optics watching as the scout struggled back to his pedes. "You, Barricade, will be Brawl's demolition assistant."

To his credit, the faux police car didn't flicker an optic at the order though, when Megatron's back was safely turned, the large mech striding toward his throne, one optic shifted out of arrangement just enough to catch one of Starscream's, effectively communicating Barricade's opinion far better than words could.

::Sparkling?:: Skywarp asked, tugging on Starscream's hand excitedly. ::You guys found a sparkling?::

::Later.:: Starscream said firmly, stepping backward as Brawl appeared in the doorway. The demolition enthusiast grabbed hold of the scout's grill and, jerking Barricade roughly behind him, began striding down the hallway in the direction the Trine had been headed, clicking away happily.

"My Lord," The Air Commander murmured deferentially as he stepped through the doorway into the wide room, walking until he stood in front of the Decepticon Leader and bowing his head. "I have returned victorious with my wingmates and we have ensured the safety of the others that made planet fall. Blackout should be returning with them within the next solar."

"Excellent." Megatron praised, sitting on his throne and placing a cupped hand on one knee and petting the contents with the other. "Injurie-"

"I wanna see the sparkling!" Skywarp cried, stepping around the bowed form of his Air Commander without a care and walking directly up to Megatron, frequencies so high in pitch with excitement that he practically squeaked. "What's his frame type? Is he a flyer? Can I teach him how to fly?"

Starscream reached out and grabbed his fellow flyer by the collar, hauling him back with practiced ease. "My Lord, did I hear correctly? You are going to personally care for the little one?"

Megatron's optics narrowed as he sat back in the collection of slabs that loosely resembled a throne. "Did you also wish to share your opinion on my child-rearing skills?"

Though the words were mild, the Decepticon Leader's tone said plainly that Starscream had better damn well not.

The Air Commander thought through several responses before settling on one. "Not at all, my Lord. I simply wonder what Barricade has done to merit his demotion when the sparkling was showing improvement under his admittedly eccentric administrations."

"I wanna see the sparkling!" Skywarp yelled before Megatron could reply. The dark jet broke loose from Starscream's grasp and bounded over once again, facial plates scrunched slightly in an expression of determination. Shifting about the chair for the perfect angle, he seemed entirely willing to pry Sam from Megatron's claws if the large silver mech refused to reveal the sparkling to the dark seeker's optics.

Behind Starscream, Thundercracker ex-vented softly, the action mimicked by the Air Commander not even an astrosecond later, and Skywarp's frantic little dance came to an abrupt end near one of the throne's armrests.

"Please." The seeker added belatedly, flaps on his wings fluttering in entreaty. "Please may I see the sparkling, my Lord?"

Megatron eyed Skywarp suspiciously for a moment longer but then relented, lounging against the chair backing as he moved his cupped hands closer to where the Seeker stood, opening the phalanges to show the hidden sparkling. Clicking excitedly, the jet leaned forward eagerly but, instead of showing excitement however, Skywarp's expression fell, his labial plates pursed, twisting into a rumbled line as his frequencies degraded into a pattern indicative of extreme confusion. The Seeker's optics glanced at Megatron then over to his wingmates then down to the sparkling before the jet pulled back, looking baffled and petulant.

"That's not funny." The Seeker declared angrily to his wingmates, pouting as he pointed at Megatron's hands. "I got all excited over nothing. **That** isn't a sparkling, it's one of those squishies you were telling us about!"

The almost friendly atmosphere in the room plummeted dramatically and Starscream tensed, armor plates locking into position as Megatron rose from his seat with Sam clasped firmly between his hands, narrowed optics fixed on Skywarp with deadly intensity.

"Hold out your hands." Megatron ordered the Seeker, growling wordlessly when Skywarp hesitated.

Starscream stepped forward, hands raised in a placating gesture, Thundercracker a reassuring presence behind him as the Air Commander tried to intervene in what could be a very messy lesson indeed. As an airframe, Skywarp technically didn't need his hands but that didn't mean Starscream was about to sit still as Megatron cut them off! "My Lord, Sam's plating is very soft and Skywarp isn't yet accustomed to handling someone so delicate… Perhaps it would be better if Thundercracker or I-"

"Silence!" The Decepticon Leader roared, one hand flashing out to cup the back of the dark Seeker's head and drag him forward, forcing the jet to get a long look at the sparkling as Megatron continued in a much more patient tone. "This is Sam. He is a sparkling- the LAST sparkling of our race- and it is our responsibility to protect and cared him as such. He is Earth-sparked and that is why his frame type is different."

"No wings." Skywarp muttered mournfully, his attention fully on Sam. "Ground frame. Cute, though, even if he is tiny."

Frequencies falling into a calmer pattern, Megatron released the Seeker to intercept the large talon attempting to prod the small form. With a deft motion, the Decepticon Leader rotated the Seeker's hand to expose the palm plates and placed Sam on the smooth surface. "We are all responsible for his well being regardless of frame type, Skywarp."

The black jet nodded, optics never leaving the sparkling held carefully in his palm, chirping at Sam eagerly in an effort to prompt a response from the small form. It made the Air Commander smile to see Skywarp taking something seriously for once but the moment was ruined by a fine undercurrent of concern and suspicion radiating from Thundercracker. The reaction worried Starscream and his concern only grew when his efforts to soothe the other were rebuffed, the blue jet forcibly closing down his side of their Trine bond, walling his spark off from them and leaving the silver jet with a sensation of loss.

"Our sparkling," Megatron's words cut through the room even though his voice was relatively soft as he took the sparkling back from Skywarp. The Decepticon Leader resumed his seat, armor plates loose, clicking calmly as he motioned the black jet to join his brethren, Skywarp flouncing to his Air Commander's side. "Faces many challenges and it is our duty to help him learn how to overcome the trials he encounters as he matures. Barricade's incessant coddling has only served to retard Sam's normal developmental process."

The Decepticon Leader's optical shutters opened wide, dilating to full capacity as they remained trained on Sam, scanning the little body his long narrow phalanges were stroking in an almost compulsive manner. "I will rectify this error in judgment."

Momentarily putting Thundercracker from his processor, Starscream experienced the unpleasant sensation of his tanks sinking lower considerably closer to his pedes. Sam had improved enormously after Barricade's initial intervention into his care and had appeared to be continuing to follow this path despite the well-meaning but ill-planned early extraction from the human medical facility by Blackout and Starscream. Had Sam's continued functioning been further compromised by an event that had taken place while the Air Commander had been out retrieving his Trine? If so then allowing Megatron to assume control over the sparkling's welfare would be disastrous based on previous attempts and Starscream had no desire to be anywhere near the Decepticon Leader should Sam offline.

At best, the instance would be incredibly demoralizing and at worse… Very bad.

"My Lord," Starscream murmured, settling on one knee in supplication as he addressed the other, trying to ignore the hot sensation of Megatron's optics on him and the prickling wariness emanating from Thundercracker. "My Trine will require rest for at least a solar to repair injuries sustained during our encounter with the Autobots. Unless a dire situation erupts, you will be short handed until we are fit for duty again, a situation that leaves both us and the other landfalls heading this way incredibly vulnerable. You will need to be on hand to coordinate efforts should the Autobots attack but your attention will be severely compromised if you are caring for a sparkling in such a weakened state. Please allow me to assume responsibility for Sam temporarily in your stead."

For several moments, Megatron merely stared at him, a phalange idly stroking Sam as the large silver mech pondered the idea, frequencies turning jagged and sharp with anger. It was entirely possible that the Decepticon Leader could read Starscream's proposal as an act of treason and punish the Air Commander accordingly, a prospect Starscream was not overtly fond of, but his concerns were valid and as Megatron began to calm, there was hope that the larger looming disaster of the death of the last sparkling could be avoided legitimately.

"Have you mentioned this observation to Barricade?" Megatron asked, and though his tone was polite, Starscream sensed a threat all the same, armor plates tightening as he continued to look at the floor.

"No, my Lord, you are the first to hear it."

There was a pause, a strained silence that seemed to last an orn before Megatron's cooling fans cycled on, venting loudly. "You make a good point, Air Command- Skywarp stop poking at your wounds!"

"Sorry!" The dark jet jumped guiltily, clicking in an embarrassment as both Thundercracker and Starscream grabbed his hands.

Settling back in his chair with an air of unhappiness, Megatron audibly cycled through a system's check before speaking again. "Your argument is a justified one as much as I regret admitting and one I cannot ignore. Very well, Starscream, I will grant your request but be aware that I will be checking on Sam's progress regularly. If he does not improve, you will answer to me and other arrangements will be made for both the sparkling and for a new Air Commander. Do I make myself clear?"

Something in the silver jet sat up in abject horror at the ultimatum, sending frantic calls for alarm through Starscream's cortex, activating every self-preservation subroutine he had and questioning his decision. Last sparkling or not, did he really want to go so far to save something so fragile, something already so close to offlining? Doubt wormed through his spark and locked his vocalizer, rendering him mute as he continued to think, petty anger bubbling up from some unknown corner, twisting like something vile and ugly as he examined the position he had willingly put himself in. Place his position in jeopardy? For a _sparkling_? Let Megatron care for the Pit-spawned thing! Once the pompous lord failed in such a degrading task, Starscream would strike, would wrestle control of the Decepticons from Megatron's weak phalanges and lead them all to glorious victory! They would start with this city, would stomp the little organics flat, and when they had razed everything to the ground, they would bring chaos to this world-

-Starscream twitched as, in an almost violent manner, blue energy flashed through the Air Commander, erasing his current line of thought and scrubbing any lingering traces from his cortex, wiping out all evidence of its existence before going dormant again.-

Disoriented, replayed the last few nanoklicks from his memory and answered in a strong, determined voice, "As plasglass, My Lord."


	5. Chapter 5

As always this chapter is dedicated to my sweetie who is a wonderful beta even when dealing with a crying, hopeless author at ten pm after a twelve hour shift. Love you darling! Now, on with the story!

* * *

Catalyst Chapter 5

* * *

"I told you not to touch his bandages!"

"But he was pulling at them…"

"Yes and now you have needlessly exacerbated his pain!"

Leaning against the wall nearest the doorway to their apartment, Thundercracker watched with narrowed optics as Starscream alternated between scolding Skywarp and attempting to sooth the small body mewling thinly in the silver seeker's large palm. The tiny form continued to twitch and whimper and leak in an absolute disgusting display that made the blue Seeker's optics narrow, his dente grind against one another in rage, and Thundercracker had to cut power to his vocalizer circuits to keep from yelling at his trinemates. It was taking most of his self-control to keep from reaching out and hurling the disgusting organic thing against a wall but he couldn't risk touching it, couldn't risk becoming… infected with whatever virus was contaminating the rest of the Decepticons in the base.

Well, all the Decepticons except Thundercracker and a certain lowly grounder.

The blue Seeker's optical shutters spiraled wide before narrowing down to pinpricks as he silently left the room, pede falls loud in the empty hallway as he set out with only vengeance in mind, armor panels flaring and weapon systems priming unconsciously.

* * *

Barricade's HUD was cluttered with pain signals and his stabilization gyros were screaming with error messages. The scout's A/V feeds were blank, leaving him deaf and blind to the world around him as he automatically scrabbled for purchase, unsure which way was up but desperate to be on his pedes before anything else happened. His phalanges ran into something and Barricade gripped it automatically in the hopes of intending to use it for leverage but a sharp blow to the side of his chassis sent him rolling sideways into an irregular surface, probably a pile of rubble since there was plenty of it around.

Large blunt hands wrapped around his door wings, the metal wrenching under the rough handling, and Barricade let out a garbled howl of pain as the appendages were first used as a handhold to drag him across the floor then as a lever to hurl him through the air. Barricade sailed into an unyielding stone and landed in a heap against it, body spasming in agony.

"…worthless light frame!" Brawl's abrasive voice was a weapon in and of itself, stabbing at the delicate sensors of Barricade's audio circuits as they abruptly came back online. "Can't even take one little close range blast!"

Actually, to be really to be accurate, Barricade had taken several close range blasts since being placed on renovation duty with Brawl since the larger mech liked to detonate charges without warning. It also wasn't much of not a surprise that the scout was taking heavy damage considering that Barricade's primary function was to infiltrate, sabotage, then run like the Pit from the scene not stick around for the fireworks he'd created. He was built for speed, for chasing down targets over ground, so his frame wasn't reinforced with redundant circuitry or multiple layers of armor like Brawl's was.

"I fragging hate you." The scout muttered thinly, actuators in his neck hissing noisily as he turned his head to glare up at the demolition expert. "Gonna mine your slagging recharge!"

It was probably a testament to how badly injured Barricade was that he didn't catch on to how absurd the threat was until Brawl sneered, armor plates flaring in disdain. "That mouth of yours is gonna be the end of you one day."

Or, you know, today because the heavy frame was just that impatient and just that much of a slagger. Pulling a charge from a subspace pocket, grinning sadistically, Brawl prepped it before setting it next to the scout's head and backing up a few steps to watch the show

_Primus hates me._ Barricade thought as he forced himself into movement, desperately clawing at the floor for purchase, trying to put distance between himself and the innocently blinking bomb. The Pit-slagging thing was one of Brawl's favored proximity bombs and many mechs had fallen victim to it throughout the war. They were designed for usage in close quarters to inflict maximum damage on the unwary at the slightest tremor depending on its sensitivity setting. In all honesty, Barricade was surprised the fragging thing hadn't already gone off but he wasn't about to stick around and waste his luck; his talons wrapped around a rocky outcropping and the scout used every override he knew to push more power into the limb, making circuits blow and gears whine as he hauled himself upright, fighting for every inch of progress. His back armor plating had already shifted to cover as much of his frame as possible but even so he would still take considerable damage when the bomb went off. Barricade sank his talons into the rock and started stepping sideways, following the wall toward the main hallway and relative safety. Frag Brawl and frag Megatron, too, if the slaggers thought he was going to put up with this shit any longer-

His left leg abruptly buckled under his weight, making him land in an ungainly pile, and it took several precious nanokliks for the infiltrator to sift through the surge of agonizing error messages to figure out that Brawl had shot the appendage out from under him. "Fraggin' hate you!"

Hand cannon transforming back into its usual appearance, Brawl shrugged his massive shoulder assemblies nonchalantly before stretching a pede out to lightly kick the mine, sending it skittering across the floor toward Barricade. "Hate you, too, slagger. Say hello to the Unmaker for me."

Barricade's cortex became a veritable cacophony of shrieking panic as the bomb's indicator light began blinking rapidly, the explosive sliding nearer, closing in on the scout until a well placed laser blast sent it flying into the wall where it detonated. The crater marking its demise was the size of Barricade's head.

A large, wedge-shaped blue pede appeared in front of the scout as his rescuer stepped over his huddled form and stood between the scout and the demolition expert.

"Your responsibility was to supervise his punishment detail, not kill him, Grounder." Each word was precise, the syllables crisp and clear, delivered in a voice so haughty and contempt-filled that Brawl's paint job should have been blistering. Keeping a wary eye on Brawl, Barricade followed the long line of leg upward and felt his optics momentarily shift out of alignment in surprise. A grounder saved by an air frame? There was no way this would end well for the scout and Barricade began to crawl away from the pair as surreptitiously as possibly, damaged leg useless as it dragged behind him.

"He was recharging on the job." Brawl declared dismissively, pulling another bomb from a subspace pocket and hefting it showily. "I was teaching him a valuable lesson."

_Lying fragger!_ Barricade ground his dente in an effort to keep his vocalizer quiet as he inched his way steadily into and down the main hallway out of audio range of the duo. If he kept following this route, it should take him back to the living quarters where he'd hopefully be able to hide out in his assigned room without anyone noti-

Why in Primus' name did everyone keep treating him like a piece of luggage?

"Put me down!" The scout howled indignantly as he was hoisted up and thrown over a blue armored shoulder. Barricade banged his fist against the swell of the Seeker's nearest turbine, startling momentarily at the clear, bell-like sound that resulted. Curiosity getting the better of him, the scout flicked a phalange little lower on the same turbine and listened to the lower tone before striking a bit higher to produce a higher note. Well, that was… interesting. Shaking his head and a bit annoyed at his inability to concentrate, Barricade began kicking and thrashing, determined to be a defiant hostage to the very end. "Lemme go!"

"If I put you down it will be to return you to Brawl." The jet stated, heading up the hallway and completely ignoring the infiltrator's attempts to get free. Considering that Barricade was half the jet's size, this probably wasn't too hard to do and the scout ground his dente angrily in mortification, optics studying the Seeker's turbines intently. "I wish to talk with you, Grounder, and have no need of an audience."

…That so didn't sound pleasant for Barricade. Right- didn't matter how he did it, the scout had to get away from the Seeker before the reached the more remote areas of the base and if the jet wasn't going to let the smaller mech go willingly, then there was only one alternative for the infiltrator to exploit. Swallowing what scraps remained of his dignity, he resorted to playing his ultimate trump card: Infuriation.

"Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb!" Barricade faithfully began tapping out the musical sequence against the jet's turbine as he sang, dutifully ignoring the jet's order to stop. "Mary had a little lamb and its fleece was white as _SNOW!"_

"Imbecilic grounder!" The jet roared, one massive hand rounding a massive shoulder and trying to swat Barricade's head, the scout evading every attempt and continuing to caterwaul the Earth rhyme. "Cease that immediately!"

_Almost! Just a little bit more and freedom! _"AND EVERYWHERE THAT MARY WENT, MARY WENT, MARY WENT EVERYWHERE THAT MARY WENT THE LAMB WAS SURE TO GO! IT FOLLOWED HER TO SCH-"

The song abruptly cut off as the jet jerked the infiltrator off his shoulder and rammed the smaller mech's head into the nearest wall. Barricade's HUD lit up with critical damage reports in a blinding display before going dark, the scout going limp as consciousness fled.

* * *

"Ah, Thundercracker!" Starscream greeted pleasantly, Skywarp trailing behind him and waving enthusiastically at the lone jet as the pair approached. They stopped just shy of the blue Seeker and peered at the limp form flung over the large shoulder with unabashed curiosity. "There you are! And I see you have anticipated our needs as always, though I had wished to reach Barricade before Brawl became… vindictive."

Armor plating unconsciously clamping tight to his frame, Thundercracker stared stonily at his wing mates and inwardly cursed his luck at being found so quickly. It had to be due to some sort of safety back-up built into the virus Barricade had masterminded that had activated when the odious little grounder off-lined.

Yet another insult to strip out of the little fragger's circuitry once they were alone.

Optics intent on Barricade, Starscream closed the distance separating them and Thundercracker had to fight the desire to step back, to get away so that he could avoid contamination. He did not know why the virus had thus far been unable to spread to him but the Seeker also had no desire to test his luck. There were just too many variables to consider and test and, if Thundercracker had his say, he would have all of them quarantine until a vaccine was found. At the very least, he had a responsibility to his trinemates to find a cure and return them to their usual selves but, until he could accomplish his task, Thundercracker would have to pretend that there was nothing out of the ordinary going on. Acting had never been his forte and secretly the blue Seeker sincerely doubted that he could convincingly feign obliviousness for a significant amount of time, especially so since there was the additional constraint of not knowing the time period for incubation of the contaminant.

_Damn you to the Pit, Barricade!_

Starscream's voice brought him back to the present and the blue Seeker struggled to choke down his anger. Taking the additional weight as easily as Thundercracker had, Starscream picked up the scout and settled him against his chassis before heading back the way he had come, Skywarp chirping happily as the dark Seeker led the way. "He will reboot shortly and, though his self-repair systems will be sufficient for most of his injuries, I believe he will be in a less recalcitrant mood if the superficial damage has also been attended to."

Thundercracker balked and couldn't help the grinding sound of irritation that escaped him as he realized what Starscream had planned. "You intend to repair him?"

"Yes." Starscream said simply, tilting his head as he looked over his shoulder at the other Seeker. "I require his assistance with Sam and this will be the most effective means of securing it."

"What's the matter TC?" Skywarp asked as he draped himself over Starscream haphazardly, making the latter stagger a bit until he accommodated to the additional mass. "You don't like Barricade?"

No, no Thundercracker did not like Barricade and up until a few orns ago, Skywarp would have had the same sentiment. The blue Seeker could feel his control slipping and fought valiantly to get a hold of himself by running a full ventilation cycle before answering, reminding himself that he had to remain calm or all was lost. Verbally sidestepping Skywarp's question, Thundercracker once again pointed out the obvious. "He is a grounder."

His trinemates simply looked at him expectantly and Thundercracker felt his wing flaps twitch as his temper flared, fanned to new heights by his frustration. No! Calm, calm, calm! Voice carefully measured, he elaborated on his previous statement. "Airframes do not waste their time repairing grounders."

The pair frowned and one of them, if not both, began clicking in irritation before they looked at one another in unspoken consensus.

"Thundercracker," Starscream said, tone authoritative and unyielding. "We must work together if we are to thrive on this planet and continuing to nurture these petty divisions will only work to undermine our efforts. Skywarp and I will return to our quarters to conduct repairs while **you**," The volume of the Air commander's voice rose to drown out Thundercracker's garbled protests. "Are going to patrol outside. I believe a good flight will help cool your head. You may return to the room when you are in a much more cooperative mood."

And then, nodding in agreement with the order, Skywarp tightened his grip on the silver Seeker and engaged his teleportation system, making the pair vanish and leaving the blue Seeker alone with his mounting anger.

Thundercracker ground his dente so hard his HUD became peppered with error messages. He was being denounced by his trinemates for maintaining an attitude that had been the norm for centuries. Said trinemates, the elite of the elite, were being debased to the point that they were reduced to little more than nursemaids for not only a grounder but also a pathetic organic and, a final insult, he had been ejected from his room, his spot taken by the very grounder responsible for this mess.

Stalking through the base, Thundercracker reached the entrance and practically threw himself out of it as he shifted into his altmode. His turbines screaming loudly, the seeker had little recourse but to do as his leader had bid, circling the surrounding area in a blind rage.

The little grounder was going to pay, oh yes he was. Barricade was going to beg and plead for deactivation long before Thundercracker was through meting out justice for the humiliation he and his trine were being forced to suffer!

* * *

Awareness returned slowly for Barricade, audio and optic sensors delivering only static-fuzzed data at seemingly random intervals. He knew that this should bother him deeply but the scout couldn't seem to scrape enough processing power to really care, too preoccupied with enjoying the pleasant feeling fogging up his cortex.

"Barricade, can you hear me?" Barb-tipped phalanges skittered lightly over his helm and Barricade heard the long drawn out sound of an ex-ventilation come from his chassis. The noise made him giggle, which made the pleasant feeling intensify, and the scout relaxed, luxuriating in the sensation of long held tension leaving his frame in a rush.

"Primus, Starscream, is he alright?"

There was a rumble of a laugh from above the scout, the vibration rolling through Barricade's frame in a tingling wash that made him wriggle in response. "He is fine, Blackout, I assure you. I was merely rather liberal when applying the sensor-block prior to starting his repairs."

"Liberal, huh?" There was a thoughtful pause before the faux helicopter continued. "Have to remember that for the next time he gets cranky."

"Cranky?" Barricade didn't recognize the voice, fear chasing the pleasure away until someone decided to spin his left shoulder assembly tire and the scout was momentarily reduced to a quivering, incoherent mass of grounder. "Oh neat!"

"Yes, he is quite the curmudgeon under normal circumstances." Starscream replied, tone and voice fond as a hand settled lightly on the infiltrator's cranial plating. "You will find that it is one of his most endearing qualities."

Barricade's optics chose that moment online, his HUD cycling through a quick start-up diagnostic before synchronizing the four video feeds into a cohesive picture, revealing that the scout was sitting in a large unfamiliar room with three flyers. Barricade didn't like to think about his age much but he had been around long enough to learn a very fundamental rule in the Decepticon Army: helpless, outnumbered grounder plus air frames always equaled **very bad things.** It did not matter that he knew two of the flyers-Barricade's personal sense of self preservation began screaming at him immediately, panic seizing him, and the infiltrator started thrashing, his spoke weapon deploying automatically as he fought for freedom from the hands that suddenly descended on him.

The fight, if it could even be called that, didn't last very long and Barricade found himself pinned to a broad chassis by large forearms, the scout's smaller hands gripped separately by Blackout and the unknown flyer.

"Barricade, I just finished repairing you! Kindly do not undo all my hard work." Starscream tskd loudly as the scout's chassis heaved, ventilation system struggling to cool overheated structures, pain making itself known now that the sensor-block was wearing off.

Barricade's processor _ached_.

"I surmised as much," Starscream continued conversationally, making the scout realize that he had inadvertently spoken aloud. "And I would do something about it but I need you to be clear headed."

"What'd you do now?" Barricade shuttered his optics in confusion then ran a systems check on his vocalizer since his speech sounded slurred.

"'Do now?'" Tipping his head to the side in curiosity, the dark jet released Barricade's hand, looking from the scout to the silver Seeker.

"We had to ask him for help before." Blackout explained before Starscream could speak. The helicopter also released his hold on the interceptor and, now free, Barricade pulled both hands out of easy reach, testing the mobility of each phalange. "Turns out he's really good at looking after sparklings like Sam."

"Fragging hate you." Barricade muttered, pulling ineffectually at the arms around his waist trapping him in Starscream's lap.

"Yes, yes, your view has been duly noted." Starscream sounded exasperated and Barricade felt the Seeker's arms tighten pointedly. "But this does nothing to change the fact that we once again require your assistance in caring for Sam-"

"Hello!" The dark seeker leaned forward until he was external olfactory sensor to external olfactory sensor with the scout. "My designation is Skywarp!"

Barricade shuttered all four optics slowly in succession before answering. "Uh… Hi."

Skywarp's pleased expression fell and behind the scout, Starscream started clicking in disapproval.

_Oh for the love of Primus..! _Cycling his ventilation, Barricade stuck his hand out to the new jet. "Hello, I'm Barricade. I specialize in infiltration, information gathering, and being a smart ass. Pleased to meet you."

Clearly puzzled but smiling nonetheless, Skywarp mimicked the scout, sticking out his larger, darker hand in Barricade's direction. With a small ex-vent, the infiltrator grasped the offered appendage and pumped it twice, effectively demonstrating how to shake hands.

"Much better." Starscream murmured, removing his restraining arms from around Barricade only to settle his hands on the scout's hips. "Skywarp is my trinemate along with Thundercracker, who is currently on patrol. I would appreciate it if you were… not as disagreeable as you usually are when interacting with Skywarp."

"No promises, jet." Barricade said, putting a hand to his cheek flares and rubbing the chrome tiredly, sagging against the Seeker since there was no point in letting a good seat go to waste. He began sorting through his data logs and was surprised when he began scanning his repair reports. "Studying to be a medic in your spare time?"

"A good commander works to better himself in all areas." Starscream replied mildly but the scout could hear the smug pattern in the jet's frequencies.

"I helped!" Skywarp said, preening when Barricade turned in his direction. "'Screamer says I'm good at popping dents!"

"Yes you are." The helicopter agreed, making Skywarp even more pleased with himself. "If I hadn't seen them myself, I would never have known Barricade had been knocked around so badly."

:::I needed to keep him occupied while I fixed his wing.::: The police car felt air against his back as the jet ex-vented quietly. :::We ran into an Autobot patrol when I collected my wingmates after planet fall and they were most persistent in their attempts to prevent us from leaving. I am glad that Blackout did not befall the same fate when he went to fetch the Constructicons.:::

"Thank you, Skywarp." Barricade put his head in his hands and concentrated on his ventilation to keep from whimpering in fear. At least he now knew where Blackout had been earlier and why Barricade could dimly hear activity further down the hallway.

"Blackout, may I have Sam please?"

Blackout, still colored outlandishly in white and orange, shifted slightly where he sat in the doorway of the room, his bulk making an intimidating barrier as he passed over a familiar tiny form. Barricade stiffened in Starscream's grip, spark-deep dread making him want out of that room before he could set optics on the human, and ignoring the pain, swung his legs to the left, intending to dismount from the Air Commander's lap until Starscream shoved his large hand in front of the scout's facial plates. Barricade felt his mandibles go slack before he could help it, inwardly cursing as his optics took in Ladiesman217's current condition.

As was continuing to be the theme each time the human was in anyone's company other than Barricade's, Ladiesman217 was in poor condition though not to the extent he had feared. The heavy sedation the scout had been using to keep the squishy comfortable had apparently worn off and some fool had stripped away the blindfold, totally undoing the faux police car's admittedly half-aft attempt to keep the human calm should said squishy wake and realize where he was. Ladiesman217 was breathing harshly and Barricade could see the muscles under his skin jumping, the human's limbs twitching into movement despite the effort he was expending to hold still to keep the pain to a minimum. The human was also sweating heavily, his skin sickly pale where it wasn't mottled by injury and contrasting sharply with the dark rings around his eyes, making the green shade of his irises stand out as his gaze darted between them all franticly before settling on the scout.

Oh, yeah, the squishy not only knew _exactly_ how dangerous his situation was but he also knew who would keep him alive.

Slag it, this was not his problem- _it was __**NOT!**_ – but Barricade couldn't ignore the intelligence burning brightly in Ladiesman217's eyes and in that moment the scout hated everyone and everything in the known universe, himself included.

"Please?" Starscream whispered silkily in his audio, as if sensing Barricade's mood. The jet grasped the scout's hand and turned it palm up so that he could place the human on it gently. "Please help us care for him?"

"Please?" Skywarp asked from his left and, in front of the scout, Blackout looked at him imploringly while nodding.

Barricade felt a small sharp tug on the plates of his palm and shifted all four of his optics down to look at the human that was staring up at him, shivering in his grasp even as the squishy struggled to hold still, the phalanges of one fleshy hand partially hidden under the metallic paneling in mute appeal.

The scout wondered when he had become such a soft-sparked glitch.

"…Fragging hate all of you." Barricade grumped, augmenting his ventilation flow to direct warm air over the human as the infiltrator got to work, transforming his free hand into its thinner, more versatile form in front of Ladiesman217. The human didn't take it well unsurprisingly, who responded by jerking in alarm then mewling piteously as his wounds were disturbed. "Hey, I'm gonna need some water shortly."

"What are you going to do?" Skywarp asked, scooting over noisily, drawing the human's attention and Barricade used the unexpected distraction to dose the organic. "Oh, he's quiet now."

The scout frowned in confusion as he continued to work checking the patch casts and the multitude of other old wounds. What the frag was the Seeker talking about? Apart from the expected noises of distress, Ladiesman217 hadn't made a sound, at least none that Barricade could detect… although he had been blown up recently and it was possible that some of the scout's audio sensors were malfunctioning. He pinned a reminder notification to his HUD to run a full diagnostic later.

"Hey, where's my water?" When the air frames simply continued to look at him in confusion, the infiltrator felt what was left of his minimal patience snap as he unsubspaced the can of soup he'd collected earlier. "If we're gonna do this we're gonna do it right! Blackout! Go get me some water, _warm_ water. Starscream, go get the ambulance from my room. Skywarp, run your turbines for a bit- the room's cold and I gotta cook something. This isn't a spectator sport now get off your aft and get me what I need!"

It still amazed the scout when the three obeyed, but he managed to hide it well as Ladiesman217 was summarily fed, bathed, and tucked into the relative safety of Barricade's chest compartment. The faux police car pinned another reminder to his HUD to not repeat the experience if at all possible; the level of intensity the three flyers were capable of and the resulting silence as they observed was probably one of the creepiest feelings the scout had ever endured.

"Aw! I wanted to play with him." Skywarp whined, optics intent on the closed panel that hid the human from view even as his phalanges fiddled with the rear doors of the ambulance in front of him. "C'mon lemme play with him!"

"No." Barricade said flatly. During the previous process he had chosen to sit on the floor as he worked and he began to absently pick up after himself, tucking the trash into a subspace pocket for later disposal. He felt rather drained now that the excitement had passed and Barricade shuttered two of his optics while rubbing absently at his mandibles as he leaned back against the wall behind him for support. This proved to be a bad idea however when his abused door wings came into contact with the stone and the scout hissed as he sat bolt upright, hands on the floor to help him remain that way.

"Sam is not a toy, 'Warp." Starscream said mildly from his seat on the scout's right, trailing a taloned digit along Barricade's thigh armor. Now that there was nothing for them to do, the three air frames were lounging around the room, making the infiltrator feel outnumbered and distinctly tiny as they encroached upon his personal space. "He is a sparkling, an injured sparkling at that, and must be handled with extreme care. You will be able to play with him once he is stronger and until then Sam will remain in Barricade's custody and, in turn, Barricade will remain in my custody."

"Wait, what?" The scout nearly hurt himself he spun to face the silver jet so quickly. "NO! No! Barricade will be returning to his room and will be perfectly happy there alone!"

"Megatron has charged me with caring for Sam." Starscream said, his condescending tone grating against Barricade's audio, making the scout growl. The Seeker's smirk wasn't helping either. "Performing this duty dictates that I appropriate any and all resources necessary to accomplish my task, ergo, I am commandeering your impeccable sparkling-rearing skills." The smirk widened and Starscream's phalange idly traced the scout's wrist tire. "Thank you for acquiescing."

Ignoring the pleasurable feeling of having his tires fondled, Barricade's felt his mandibles go slack in outrage."You sneaky slagging glitch! Non! Iya! Nope! Na! Pick any language you want but the answer is still no!"

"But he repaired you…" Skywarp began, putting the earth vehicle down, and the scout hastily cut in before the argument could be made.

"What he chooses to do on his own is not my problem and you can't hold me responsible for an action he takes." Sitting there among frames twice his size, Barricade suddenly felt incredibly small but he refused to give ground. He had had enough. He'd already bailed Starscream out of a problem once concerning Ladiesman217 and had had it thrown right back in his facial plates the moment the jet disagreed. Even if he hadn't had experience with the jet, Starscream's reputation for scheming, blackmailing, and backstabbing was well known among the army, especially among self-preserving ground frames like Barricade, and any pact made with the Seeker would be a mistake of epic proportions. "Your argument is invalid and my answer is no."

"Now, Barricade," The Air Commander began, reaching up to spin the tire on the scout's shoulder assembly and frowning when the grounder hastily moved out of range. "There are benefits to be enjoyed in this arrangement…"

_Yeah, like deactivation. _Ignoring the slew of error messages the action caused, Barricade stood and crossed the room, limping his way carefully over the long limbs in his path before flattening himself as much as possible against the doorjamb to sidle around Blackout who sat in the way, watching the infiltrator in open amusement. The scout needed to get out of here before they decided to force him or the insanity affecting them spread to him or Megatron decided to wander by or the stiff leg that Brawl had shot gave out like it was threatening to do-

Or for an angry blue Seeker to suddenly haul Barricade into an empty room as the scout passed by. Before he could react, Barricade had been dragged inside and pinned against an interior wall, large blunt phalanges digging into the scout's neck cabling until the circuitry of his vocalizer was in danger of being crushed.

"I demand to know what you have done to my wingmates!"

"And I demand to be allowed to recharge but apparently we're both going to be disappointed." Barricade shuttered his optics briefly, processor reeling as he tried to figure out what in the Pit the other mech's problem was, other than, you know, being an air frame. "What exactly am I supposed to have done?"

The Seeker's grip tightened menacingly. "Do not feign ignorance! You are the one responsible for the madness infecting my Trine! Return them to normal immediately!"

"Infect…" Barricade stared at the jet, gripping the larger forearm tightly as all four optics narrowed in concentration on the jet's face. "True or false: Sam the sparkling is actually a human."

The jet blinked then frowned, clicking in irritation. "Of course it is a filthy organic now give me the antivirus, Grounder, before I simply rip it from your coding!"

Barricade sagged in disbelief and the Seeker took a step back, holding him at arm's length as if afraid of catching something, contempt twisting the flyer's facial features. The jet was a jerk but he wasn't infected. He wasn't infected! The scout had an ally if he could just convince the glitch that whatever behavioral change had happened wasn't due to anything Barricade had done. Quickly triggering his spoke weapon as a distraction, the scout wrenched his way free and put distance between them when the jet released him. "What's happened here to all of them? Not my fault."

"Do not lie to me, groundling."

Barricade sheathed his weapon and clenched his hands into tight balls as the frustration and confusion he'd felt for the past few solars roared through him in a storm of indignant fury. "Have you been inhaling your vapor trail or something, slag heap? If I was going to reprogram a bunch of flyers for my own ends, don't you think that I would, I dunno, indulge in my personal desire to _get off_ this slagging mudball not make them think a squishy is a sparkling? I've been here for four full planetary rotations! I want to go home! Megatron's so busy trying to be parent of the year that I bet the idea of returning to Cybertron hasn't even entered his processor!"

The jet's frown deepened and he shifted, subtly using his bigger size to further block the only exit of the room. "I do not agree."

Of course he didn't agree because that would have been just too slagging easy! Barricade ground his dente, his armor plates flaring, puffing up as his frustration with the other mounted. "And why do you not agree, jet?"

"Not 'jet,' you wretch. My designation is Thundercracker, First Lieutenant and Second in Command of the Seeker units." The jet stood straight and tall, obviously proud of his rank and title. Barricade supposed that he might have had the same reaction if he had similar status.

"Yeah, spiffy. Welcome to Earth, home of the weird." The scout said, suddenly tired of having to babysit petulant idiots. Rubbing at his cheek flares, he waved dismissively at the other mech. "I dunno what triggered the personality shift in everyone else but right now you and I seem to be the only ones unaffected."

"But you know how to care for the human." An accusation, as if Thundercracker was still unable or simply unwilling to let that point go and thought it was the most damning evidence against Barricade. "Starscream came looking for you specifically because you could help them care for their… pet."

_Ah._ Well that explained why Barricade had woken up in the silver Seeker's lap and why Starscream had bothered to repair the damage Thundercracker had inflicted. "Because I've been here the longest, aft. Weren't you listening? I've spent four planetary rotations on this slagging rock doing covert surveillance! That includes learning about the native inhabitants!"

"Your argument is laughable but it has raised interesting questions." Thundercracker said, his ventilation system cycling noisily as the jet folded his arms across his chassis and looked over his shoulder assembly at the hallway beyond. "Very well. I will pursue my own investigation into this matter though do not think that you have allayed my suspicions grounder. I will be watching you."

With that the pompous jet swept from the room for Primus knew where, leaving Barricade to stagger from the room to his personal quarters. It figured that out of all the possible mechs who could have been Barricade's ally in this mess, the only one unaffected would be the most obnoxious and arrogant individual second only to a certain silver Seeker. At least Starscream would only stab you in the back- Barricade feared that Thundercracker had no qualms about being considerably bolder when deciding to eliminate an obstacle.

"Primus!" Barricade said softly but with feeling as he settled awkwardly on the floor of his apartment. "As if dealing with one self-important Seeker wasn't enough..."

A noise from his chassis caught his attention and, belatedly, the scout remembered the human in his care. Popping the latches on his chest compartment and turning his headlights on low power, Barricade carefully withdrew Ladiesman217 to check the squishy for damage. Thundercracker hadn't been overtly violent earlier but organics were notoriously fragile and if the scout's continued existence hinged on the survival of the human, then the small mech was taking no chances.

"Oh, hey there…" Barricade said, feeling awkward and not a little bit silly as he realized that the squishy was awake and watching him. "So, uh, you… Shouldn't you be recharging?"

The scout was fairly certain that he had administered enough drugs to knock the human out for several orns but perhaps, since Barricade himself had been sensor-blocked, he had miscalculated. Erring on the side of caution, the scout ran a system diagnostic as he triple checked the calculations he was using for Ladiesman217's medication, referencing the human's height and weight to compute the necessary dosage, phalanges idly adjusting the blanket he'd wrapped the squishy in.

"Where…?" It came out slurred and impossibly drawn out but Barricade was still impressed by the fact that the squishy had spoken at all. The scout was still positive that his prior 'stroke-out' diagnosis was correct but maybe not since the facial slackness that had been so prominent before had apparently faded significantly. It was something the scout wasn't totally convinced should have been possible given the previous extent of the damage, and he filed the new information away to consider at a later date.

"Later. Follow this." Tilting his head, Barricade held up one phalange, moving it slowly from side to side then up and down above Ladiesman217's head, gradually changing the simple pattern into something more complex. "Okay. Now how many phalanges?"

"Th-thr…" The organic's eyes fluttered as he swallowed hard but a small hand appeared from under the blanket, three phalanges extended, the same number the infiltrator currently displayed. Huh. Barricade wasn't a medic by any stretch of the imagination but, as far as he could tell, the little fleshbag was not only healing well but also at an accelerated rate despite the continuous setbacks that kept cropping up. He was fairly certain that this should not be possible, that Ladiesman217 should have deactivated long ago, but it was something that the infiltrator would have to look into later since, right now, both of them needed recharge more than anything else.

"Good job." The scout muttered, deciding that a little positive reinforcement wouldn't hurt. He even patted the human on the head lightly. "Good job, squishy."

Though it took him a klik to accomplish, Ladiesman217 shot him the bird, glaring weakly up at Barricade defiantly as the scout laughed in response, tucking the human back into his chest compartment. The scout administered another dose medication to help the squishy sleep then began the monumental task of trying to find a comfortable position for recharge himself.

Stuck on a backwater planet with no way home, surrounded by lobotomized Decepticons with only a self-important aft and an ailing human for company. Barricade wondered if it could get any worse then promptly decided that he just didn't want to know.

* * *

A/N: Hello all! It's been quite a while since I've seen you last so let me once again express my gratitude to you for staying with the story! Thank you so much!

Arg! It took me a bit to find Barricade in my head again after such a long break. The snarky little bastard just up and hid on me and I had to drag him back kicking and screaming before I could finish this chapter. Until that was accomplished, he just didn't 'sound' right and I had to keep redoing his dialogue and reactions. Speaking of dialogue and 'sound,' is everyone alright with Barricade's speech patterns? It was pointed out to me that he doesn't always come across as a fearsome Decepticon warrior yet, because he's so damn mouthy, one of the easiest methods to make him distinctive from the others is via his grasp of the local vernacular and vocabulary. By the same token, Starscream's unwillingness to do the same makes him easy to spot in a conversation, as do the avenues each mech takes to accomplish their respective goals; the Seeker a manipulator from the shadows versus the overtly hostile and blunt straight shooter. I try to constantly keep that in mind when writing that particular pair but I don't always know if what I'm trying to get across is, well, coming through so any comments on that are welcome.

The plot thickens! As hinted at in the previous chapter, Barricade is now not the only one in the base wondering what's wrong with everyone though it's debatable how much of an ally Thundercracker is going to be. This ought to be interesting to say the least.


End file.
